


Amplification

by kinsale_42



Series: Khadgar [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Adventure, Alcohol, Burning Legion - Freeform, Espionage, F/M, Magic, Nightmares, Romance, Suramar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9674912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinsale_42/pseuds/kinsale_42
Summary: The follow-up to Illumination.The war against the Burning Legion rages on, and the defenders of Azeroth are planning their first major offensive assault. Khadgar and Kinsale must learn to use their telepathic connection to their advantage during such troubled times. Fear and despair threaten to overtake them, but with their friends and allies at their side, they forge onward.





	

A mild breeze was blowing in off the sea, making the awnings and pennants in the city of Suramar flutter gracefully. The scraggy clifftop cypress tree in which the lone raven perched shifted from side to side. His overlook was too good to abandon for a more stable perch, so he merely dug his talons a little deeper into the branch.

Khadgar had a dozen or so of these watchposts around the perimeter of the city. He generally used them to keep an eye on the level of demonic activity as the Burning Legion patrolled the streets and abused the citizens. He dared not enter the city himself just yet. Too much had yet to be done before he risked getting too close to where he was sure Gul'dan was waiting.

Thus he was reduced to surveillance, forced to send others out to help build the resistance with the Nightborne exiles. Life had almost been simpler when he could be in the midst of the battle himself, where his primary decisions involved which orc to strike and how much magic he could safely use and still remain alive. He knew some members of the Kirin Tor were truly in their element in this sort of environment, but it wasn't his game. Khadgar had always been driven to acquire knowledge, and to know what was going on around him, but he was too straightforward for political maneuvering and meddling in the affairs of kingdoms. Espionage and intrigue frustrated him, and he knew that dealing in secrets only fed the belief that wizards were masterminds bent on shaping the world to their will.

The breeze ruffled his raven feathers again. He couldn't stay much longer here, watching. There were other things that needed his attention, other things that troubled him about this war and the paths that had been hastily chosen to protect and defend his home world.

He peered down into the Waning Crescent district. Fel flames still licked the corpses of civilians that had fallen when Elisande and her Legion allies had attempted to destroy the urban hub of the resistance. From his vantage point, he had a clear view of the bridge into Evermoon Market, and the citizens and patrolling guards that crossed it. As he watched, he thought he saw a flash of light as a face turned in his direction, a face with the pale violet skin of a Nightborne elf but with a faint shimmer that suggested the outline of an illusion. Even with his magically-enhanced vision, he could not be entirely certain he saw what he thought he saw, but the warmth that filled his raven breast was all he needed to be sure. He released his grip on the tree branch and sailed back to the spires of Dalaran.

***

Khadgar took a deep breath as he felt the vision world coalesce around him. It had been a long time since his last foray into the past but the sensation of displacement was still all too familiar. The mountain air chilled him and frost was already hardening on the ground as the Alterac midnight took shape. A great spruce tree towered over him, draping him in deep shadow. The farmhouse and workshop that stood in a clearing before him were dark and silent in the moonlight, yet it seemed from the order in the yard that the residents had only stepped away a moment before.

Had he timed this right? There had been a certain amount of guesswork involved in pinpointing the exact moment in question, even though he was in possession of enough of the key details to enable a defined target. A stealthy movement at the edge of the clearing caught his eye, and he saw two slight figures, one a little larger than the other, emerge from the shadows and race across the yard to the house. Yes, this was what he had hoped to see. He stood beneath his tree and waited for the figures to re-emerge.

There was the glow of a spark and then the steady dim light of a candle flame shone through the front windows. It only lasted a few minutes, just long enough for the children to locate what they sought in the darkness of the abandoned homestead. The flame vanished, and Khadgar kept his eyes on the door. It opened soundlessly and the taller figure, who Khadgar knew to be a boy of fifteen, stepped out carrying a long narrow object. The moonlight glinted off the hilt of a sword. The smaller figure, though still tall for her twelve years, followed her brother out and closed the door behind her. She clutched something to her chest.

The boy pointed off towards the woods in the direction they had come. Together they began to move that way, but as they reached the gate that stood open to the western forest, the boy paused and looked around. Khadgar heard muffled hoofbeats behind him and turned to see two mounted men approaching the stead from the south, keeping to the grassy verge of the road to stay quiet in the still night air.

"Over here!" the boy cried out and waved his arm at the horsemen. The girl stopped like a startled deer, halfway to the shelter of the trees. As the riders passed Khadgar's vantage point, they picked up speed. Their dark leather armor and face masks hid their identities but the daggers they carried revealed their purpose. One of the riders went for the boy with the sword, reaching down and hauling him up onto the horse. The other pulled out something dark and apparently heavy from beneath his cloak and swung it at the girl as he swept by. Khadgar could hear the sickening thud as it made contact with her skull and she flew backwards to land in a twisted heap. He felt his heart wrench inside him, though he knew the outcome of this night would not be as tragic as it appeared.

The dark riders vanished into the forest behind the buildings and the clearing fell silent and still once more. The shade that was Khadgar's vision form ran over to where twelve-year-old Kinsale lay in the frozen grass, and knelt at her side. Yes, her chest was still moving and the warmth of her breath was still just visible in the cold air. Her grandfather's libram, his holy prayer book, had fallen from her as she was knocked back, but her arm had been flung in that direction as well, and her fingertips just rested upon its edge. As he watched, a subdued glimmer appeared at that point of contact. For a moment he thought his eyes were playing tricks, that the moonlight was reflecting off the tooled and embossed cover of the tome. The light gathered strength, though, and soon the entire libram was aglow, and then the slender arm of the girl. Then her entire body was wrapped in the warmth of holy light, and a narrow but radiant pillar rose up from her into the sky above.

Even as one who had spent years in the company of the na'aru, Khadgar felt awe at the power of the blessing he was witnessing. Then, in the reverse of how the vision had begun, the world began to disintegrate around him and he was back in his own time, in his private workroom in Dalaran. The image of the girl in the pillar of light remained burned in his mind.

He had gotten the answers he'd wanted, which almost surprised him. His skill at targeting intentional visions had improved immensely over the years, but it was still an unpredictable process, and it was never certain that even seeing what he wanted to see would give him the information he needed. He sat down at his work table and closed his eyes, going over the scene one more time to be sure he hadn't missed any detail. Then he raised his hand and sent a finding spell to retrieve a record from his bookshelves. It wasn't even a minute before the tome he needed slid off the shelf and landed in his hand.

Khadgar's eyes opened, the blue of his irises intensely bright as he began thumbing through the pages of  _ A History Of The Syndicate, As Reported By One Who Was There In The Beginning _ . In his mind he could hear Kinsale's voice as he remembered the conversation that had started him on this quest for knowledge.

_ "I miss my grandfather the most, the knight who became a healer, even though I was very small when he died," she said. "That's why we went back for his things, my brother and I...at least, that was my reason. Sometimes I'm not so sure about my brother." _

_ "What do you mean? Why not?" _

_ Kinsale replied, "Sometimes I have this dream, and it's that night. I remember feeling very cold except where I was carrying Grandfather's libram. And I hear my brother call out, 'Over here!' so I turn to run to him and then something hits me. That's when I wake up, every time." She paused. "But a few years ago, I thought, what if it wasn't me he was calling to? He had wanted Grandfather's sword so badly and I never understood why. And he'd been so angry since our father had rebelled against Perenolde and been executed for it. I just wonder... Was he running away?" _

She had looked away, but Khadgar had seen the tears forming in her eyes. He'd heard the unspoken question. If her brother had left her intentionally, why had he left her for dead?

His eyes caught the name he was watching for as he scanned the pages of the history: Andrik, recruited to the "cause" as a boy, not long after the founding of the organization. He only seemed to be mentioned at all because of the fine sword he had brought with him, a sword that had belonged to a knight of Lordaeron. Interestingly enough, the name of the knight had been recorded as well: Tursten of Tirisfal.

Khadgar reached for a fresh leaf of the inexpensive and quickly-produced paper that he had shipped into Dalaran by the boatload from Pandaria, and rapidly filled it with notes on references and ideas for further research. He wished he didn't have to break away just now, but he was due at a meeting with Archmage Senach and the Tirisgarde regarding a crucial investigation, so he could not be late. He slid the sheet of notes into the history of the Syndicate and closed the cover, resolving to return to it as soon as he was able.

***

As night descended upon Suramar, and the lamps and lanterns of the city began to glow, Kinsale slipped into a tiny confectioner's shop tucked away in a narrow alley. She nodded at the proprietor and climbed the stairs to the loft above. It was a only a matter of minutes before her Dusk Lily contact joined her.

In a low voice, he gave her the instructions he had been sent to give her regarding her mission. "There is a round building at the very southeastern tip of Evermoon Terrace. At the base of it, you will find a translocation pad that will transport you to the top floor. You will receive more detailed information there."

Kinsale nodded at the elf. "I know the area. I will find it. Thank you."

"And take care," he cautioned. "The patrols are numerous tonight." He waited as she left the building, making sure no attention was drawn to the shop for the sake of the proprietor.

Kinsale carefully threaded her way through the district, alert for the vigilant guards who would see through the illusion that disguised her as one of the common folk of Suramar. They did not take kindly to outlanders wandering their streets, especially since the grip of the Legion had taken hold. It was a strong enough spell to ensure her safe passage among those who did not look too closely, and she did not fear for her safety in most of the western part of the city. Still, she was cautious enough to prefer darkness to illumination and to put market stalls or shrubbery between her and patrolling guards whenever possible.

At last, the short round tower she sought came into view, the translocation pad in front just visible by its blue glow against the stone paving. Two elite guards stood nearby, animatedly discussing something that Kinsale could not hear. The minutes ticked by as she waited just around the corner of the building on the north side of the small plaza, a conical cypress tree casting its protective shadow over her. She considered her target and the obstacles before her. She could just walk purposefully over to the translocation pad and hope that the guards didn't notice or didn't find her to be unusual in any way, but the plaza was well lit, and she didn't want to risk the safety of the house or the people inside by drawing too much attention or causing suspicion. Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she waited, frustrated by her lack of options.

After another few minutes, the guards appeared to reach some sort of agreement, and moved away in separate directions. Kinsale held her breath as one approached her location but then passed her by at a safe distance, without a glance in her direction. When she judged they were both at last far enough away, she made for the translocator and teleported up into the building to find Silgryn waiting for her.

He set aside the parchment he had been reading, and turned to greet her. "Good evening to you, Highlord," he said. "I have some news from our friends outside the city. Your presence is requested there -- Thalyssra herself has an important mission for you." Silgryn shifted a decorative screen to reveal a channeled portal and the device that was maintaining it. "And Oculeth has provided for your transportation."

"Thank you, Silgryn," said Kinsale. "Light go with you always." Silgryn nodded in acknowledgement, and she stepped through the portal to find herself in the underground refuge of Shal'Aran.

***

Khadgar slipped his hand into a concealed pocket in his robes and pulled out the small blue mana gem he had conjured and left as a messaging device for Kinsale so many months ago. They had decided it would be a liability if it was discovered on her while she was in Suramar, so Khadgar now carried it.

He turned it over and over in his hand, examining it with a growing sense of wonder. Conjured items like this simply did not persist for this long. Normally they disintegrated in something between a few hours and a few days if they were not deliberately consumed. He probed the gem's structure, discovering that the crystal matrix had undergone a minor metamorphosis. Because he had created the crystal, he expected to read his signature in it, but he was not entirely surprised to also read Kinsale's.  Something in the way she had used it had turned this inconsequential object into a permanent relic, a memento of their personal bond. They no longer needed it to communicate across any distance, near or far, but it was still a powerful symbol.

His hand closed around the gem, holding on to it like an anchor in the sea of uncertainty and disquiet that was his whole world of late.

***

It was a late hour indeed by the time Kinsale curled up on her thin bedroll in a dim and quiet spur tunnel where several Nightfallen refugees were already fast asleep. There had been much to discuss with the leaders of the rebellion, going over the intelligence they had, the planned response, and the logistics and strategy needed to make the operation a successful one. When all this had been resolved to the satisfaction of all parties, Kinsale had sat at Telemancer Oculeth's writing table and written out a brief coded letter to Khadgar, who continued to watch over the Broken Isles from his eyrie of Dalaran. She could have shared most of the things she wrote through their enhanced communication link, but there was something about putting it down in ink that made it more real, and more lasting, should anything happen.

Now, as she prepared for sleep, she reached out for him through the nether, as was their newfound custom. She found him easily, and sighed softly as they met and merged. Tomorrow's operation would be dangerous and uncertain, and Kinsale was glad of the access to her greatest source of support.

In Dalaran, Khadgar had only just returned to his private chamber after a number of meetings and conferences. His last had been with a group of the Tirisgarde mages that were working on a way to access The Nighthold, where the leader of the Nightborne was ensconced with her entourage and apparently some of the higher levels of the Legion invaders. Khadgar believed that Gul'dan was there as well, controlling Elisande and her city for his own purposes.

He had stretched out on his bed for a quick few hours of sleep when he felt Kinsale's call like the whisper of her fingertips on his cheek, and his heart swelled. As he focused on the signal, he was able to view her where she lay wrapped in a blanket in what appeared to be Shal'Aran. He was relieved she was safe for the moment. Khadgar never doubted her skills or resourcefulness, and refused to stop her from taking justifiable action in defense of their world, but the force of this invasion was still frightening. To think of her on the front lines of the resistance tended to put him on edge. It was much easier to throw himself on the fire than to risk the one he loved.

As their inner selves joined and entwined, he detected an undercurrent of sadness running through her mind. Even though the bond they shared was strong, and they were honest and open with each other about much, he resisted the urge to pry. Some feelings were simply a result of a stray memory, or overthinking a situation. If it was important, she would tell him about it. However, it made him wish even more strongly that he could be with her.

Khadgar made a decision then, and after whispering a few words into the darkened room where he lay, he closed his eyes and his body was still.

Kinsale felt soothed by the ready response of her partner. He was always there when she needed him, and she hoped she was as available to him. There was so much to be done to fight this war, and she felt called to give all her strength and power to see it won. With all the travel and combat, she felt she was neglecting her love. Yet he also had many responsibilities and had assumed a mantle of leadership that dwarfed her own, and had known of her commitment to her duty long before they had become lovers. She took a breath to clear her mind, and relaxed into the wordless link between them, only to swiftly realize that she not only felt his presence in her heart, but outside of her, next to her.

The spectral form he had conjured from Dalaran lay beside her, his arm holding her close against his chest, his breath warm on her neck. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, like the concentric bands left by the wind across a Tanaris sand dune. They lay folded together, the physical and the spectral, visible and invisible, and it was comforting to both.

As one, they slept.

***

Khadgar's eyes did not open again until the light of dawn struck the great tower of the Violet Citadel. He hadn't been entirely certain what would happen if he fell asleep while in the midst of a spectral conjuring, but his intent had been to return to his body upon awakening, and at least that part had worked out right. As he got up and stretched he was pleased at how good he felt, as though he'd gotten a full night's rest rather than four hours while in a state of magical displacement.

After stopping in at the Legerdemain for a cup of real coffee--so much better than conjured--and a chance to exchange pleasantries with the staff and patrons, Khadgar took a quick stroll around the city. He tried to see the people he was responsible for protecting whenever he could, and to be known to them. Following the precedent set several years before by Archmage Rhonin, he attempted to keep the workings of Kirin Tor leadership as clear and open as was possible, and to be accessible to those who would seek the assistance of the great mage city of Azeroth. It was no small task, especially when he knew there were Legion spies among the wizards and common folk alike.

He climbed the steps to Krasus' Landing to check with the flight master and the leader of the watch for any news or important comings and goings he may have missed overnight. They had nothing of note to report, but as he thanked them and prepared to return to his library, a mail courier landed and called out to him.

"Archmage Khadgar! Sir, I have a letter for you!" The young man, barely more than a boy, slipped off the gryphon and hurried over to where Khadgar had paused. He pulled a folded piece of parchment out of his scrip and handed it over.

"Thank you," Khadgar said, and turned his attention to the letter, carefully folded and sealed. In the sea green wax was the stamp of a hammer. A report from Kinsale? But he'd already gotten a weekly report, so what was this? He probed the letter mentally, without opening it, but all he could tell was that Kinsale had written it. It was coded, as was appropriate for the espionage work she was doing.

He forced himself to be patient and walk back to his library rather than teleporting directly. There was surely no need for him to be alarmed, and even less need to worry those around him. When he at last arrived in the sanctum of the Chamber of the Guardian, he went straight to the shelf where he kept the pocket-sized book that he and Kinsale used for their private code,  _ A Traveler's Field Guide to the Night Skies of Outland _ . Written by himself, of course.

Khadgar broke the seal on the letter and smoothed out the folds, and sitting at his table he began to meticulously decode what Kinsale had written, immediately understanding that it was not a duty report. When he had finished, he sighed and reread what he had transcribed.

_ My dearest, _

_    By the time you read this, I will have departed on a dangerous but crucial mission in service of our mutual friends, the Shal'dorei. One of their most self-sacrificing leaders, one that I respect very much for going to great lengths to keep others' bodies and souls together, has disappeared since the violent destruction of the Waning Crescent. _

_    All around the Evermoon Market, townsfolk are being rounded up and shipped out of the city in fel chains at the hands of the demon occupation forces. We plan to insert ourselves into a group of these deportees to learn where they are being taken and hopefully to find some useful information regarding our missing innkeeper. _

_    You will understand the risk of such an undertaking. I hope you also understand the necessity. Our goal was to make allies of the Nightfallen. I have made more than allies; I have made friends. _

_    If I do not return, please know that you were ever the brightest light, the most radiant joy of my life, and you will forever carry my heart. _

__ __ _ ~K _

Khadgar tucked the book back into its place on the shelf and locked the coded letter away in his specially-hidden chest. He slipped the translation into the inside pocket of his shirt and quickly shifted into raven form, flying up through the halls and out over Dalaran.

***

The plan was that Kinsale was to get taken up in a group of common Nightborne that were being "relocated." Thalyssra and her team of Nightfallen rebels would follow at a safe distance, and when the group arrived at whatever Legion camp was processing the prisoners, the Nightfallen would attack the camp and free the captives. The risks were almost too numerous to count. Her illusion could fail and the guards could kill her on the spot, before any help could arrive. The rebel team could be detected and captured or slaughtered. They could get separated by whatever means, and Kinsale would remain a captive until whatever end the prisoners were being given. The guards could summarily execute her for no particular reason.

She knew that Thalyssra had woven the enchantment that gave her the illusion of being a Nightborne elf stronger and thicker than the one she had used for so long to walk the streets of Suramar, that Thalyssra and her rebels knew this land far better than Kinsale could even imagine, and that Oculeth had crafted a most inconspicuous object to serve as an emergency transmitter, but still she prayed every prayer she could remember on her way into the city. Kinsale called on the favor of every great paladin she could think of, and several priests besides, and on the na’aru A'dal and Xe'ra. She asked for their protection. She even sought a blessing from Elune, which she felt was nearly appropriate, as she was playing the part of an elf.

She lingered in the market where their informants had indicated the next raid would occur, gazing idly at the glowing gems on display. She envisioned taking a small piece of her soul and binding it up, solidifying it until it was like one of the sparkling crystals on the velvet tray before her. When she could picture it clearly, so like one of Khadgar's mana gems yet silvery-white rather than blue, she visualized pressing it into Khadgar’s hand and closing his fingers around it until he held it so tightly it dissolved into his flesh. Then at last she felt a sense of peace, that she could take whatever would come that day. She had left a piece of herself with him that would continue to exist if she should fall.

Kinsale did not need to wait long before the phalanx of Legion guards swept into the market, grabbing up any elf that crossed their path and binding them with glowing fel chains. She made sure she caught the eye of a particularly grim looking dreadguard, and he grabbed her roughly and added her to the line of captives. When they had collected the quota they had been sent to fill, the line was led to a boat that awaited them in the nearby canal to carry them to Astravaar Harbor.

The captives were forced to stand waiting in the harbor, still chained together in long lines, until the sun was well past its zenith. The fel shackles burned Kinsale's wrists, even through the prayers of light she wove round them to keep them whole. She saw no obvious reason they were forced to wait; the boats to convey them out of the city were manned and ready. Clearly it was meant to break the prisoners, to make them more pliable in their exhaustion. She focused on keeping a solid reserve of energy within her. The Light would make it easier to engage in combat even through exhaustion, but there were still limits. She had to survive long enough that she reached the field of battle.

Kinsale felt horrible for the Nightborne who suffered around her. They had no idea what they faced and were finding it difficult to maintain any sort of calm in the face of unknown terror and the physical pain of the fel chains and the blazing sun. She wished she could give them some relief, but she could do no more than whisper a few words of encouragement to those nearest to her. Any spells that weren't already stifled by the demonsteel restraints would draw immediate attention from the guards, and any advice about what truly lay in store for the captives would compromise the operation. Even too much talking was ill-advised, because the illusion that disguised her was still only an illusion. So Kinsale stood quietly, trying to absorb and mitigate the misery of the elves shackled nearby without drawing anyone's attention.

Then suddenly the demon guards leapt into action, as if directed by some unseen hand. The captives were roughly manhandled into the open boats, and with just a couple of hours left before sunset, the small convoy left the harbor and rounded the point that marked the southernmost tip of Suramar.

It was not long before they drew up on the eastern shore of the channel that divided Suramar from Azsuna. A landing camp had been hastily erected there, and a path behind it led to the crest of the hill that overlooked Felsoul Hold. The foul fumes that rose from the fel lava and belched from the demonic engines cast a greenish haze over the hilltop. Many of the elves that were chained with Kinsale were seeing this pollution for the first time and they gasped with the beginnings of horror, not knowing yet what the true horror was.

The guards of the camp began hauling the prisoners out of the boats, breaking their chains as they divided them up and sent them in various directions. Ravenous felhounds nipped at their heels if they didn't move quickly enough. Some were sent directly to inquisitors or other tormentors, some were gathered at the top of the camp, apparently to leave for Felsoul Hold itself once the required number was achieved, and some were shoved into cages to await some unknown end.

Just as Kinsale's chains were dissolved, three boats full of Nightfallen rebels landed and rebels and demons flowed towards one another as a river meets an incoming tide. She spotted Thalyssra running towards her through the chaos and caught the Ashbringer that the elf tossed to her. Her illusion fell away as she entered combat, but she had no time to notice if any of her fellow prisoners or captors were surprised by the sudden appearance of an outlander. She was most concerned about rescuing the ones nearest Felsoul Hold, because they could be most swiftly removed from the scene and were surely destined for immediate use in the fel machines.

Kinsale signaled at Thalyssra and Silgryn that she was going that way, and Silgryn moved to join her. Together they hacked their way through the fight along the shore, Kinsale's runeblade and Silgryn's two translucent spellblades flashing golden in the last beams of the western sun, and they raced up the hill to where the captives were already being dragged towards their doom. Silgryn cast a bonding spell that locked the dreadguards' feet in place for a few moments. It was just enough to allow the rescuers to catch up. Kinsale cast blessings of freedom on the dozen captives and brought the flat of her blade alongside the head of the nearest guard, stunning him before he even had time to see it coming. With an arcane bolt from Silgryn and a swift strike of the Ashbringer he was down, and only three more remained.

Some of the freed prisoners had picked up stones and were throwing them at their recent captors. Others had arcane abilities they were using to disable and damage the dreadguards. Against two well-armed combatants and twelve who were fighting for their lives with whatever was at hand, three guards stood little chance. They were soon sent back to the Twisting Nether that spawned them.

Silgryn and Kinsale turned to head back to the battle that continued on the shore below them, their swords at the ready, leaving the newly rescued to free others from their cages with the keys dropped by the dead dreadguards. Kinsale spotted Thalyssra amidst the chaos and headed in her direction, destroying two snarling felhounds on the way.

Thalyssra looked up and her eyes widened. She shouted a warning to Kinsale, nearly too late. "Behind you! Quickly!"

Kinsale spun round to find an enormous mo'arg brute looming over her, his oversized maces beginning their swing down to crush her. Instinctively she pointed the Ashbringer at him and let out a deafening battle cry, calling down a judgment upon him. With a flash and a crackle, a pillar of holy light exploded through the demonic abomination, rending him to dust. She tingled all the way through, as if she had channeled a lightning bolt. Shaking slightly, she turned back toward the main field of battle, where the rebels were clearly winning the day, as every prisoner they freed had joined in to defeat the small Legion force that manned the outpost.

In the end they had lost a few, and the bodies were gathered to be taken back to Suramar in honor. The camp would be monitored for activity, now that its location was known. A few of the rebels took the boats they had brought back towards the city, while the other rebels and the surviving prisoners gathered together as Thalyssra activated the translocation device that Oculeth had programmed to return them to Shal'Aran. Only when she felt her feet touch the stone paving of the buried Nightfallen sanctum did Kinsale at last relax.

Kinsale was helping to distribute ancient mana crystals to the newly arrived refugees, a vital substance that allowed them to survive and keep their minds whole away from the Nightwell, at least until a cure was available, when she sensed Thalyssra at her elbow.

"May I have a word, Kinsale?" Her expression was normally very serious, but Kinsale heard a note in Thalyssra's voice that suggested immediate compliance was the best response.

She handed off the sack of crystals to a nearby Nightfallen rebel. "Of course," she replied, and followed Thalyssra out of Shal'Aran, from the darkness of below ground to the darkness of the night.

Oculeth and Silgryn were waiting for them in the nearby ruins of Meredil. A small crystalline lantern glowed on a cracked stone bench, throwing violet shadows through the creeping vines and untidy shrubbery. Kinsale could discern nothing of the purpose of this meeting from their expressions. Like most elves, their faces remained virtually neutral unless they were affected by the strongest of emotions.

It was, unsurprisingly, Thalyssra who spoke first. "First, I have to say I am pleased with the result of our expedition today. The lives we saved are beyond price, and the knowledge we gained will help us move forward with our mission. I thank you all for the part each of you played in ensuring our success."

She then turned to Kinsale. "But, there is something that troubles me about what I saw today, and I must ask you to explain. I admit I have known few paladins before these last months, but I understood them to use only Light as their energy source. What are you, then, that you use arcane power as readily as Light?"

Kinsale's eyes widened. She recalled the crackling, tingling sensation she had felt during combat that day. And the massive lightning bolt that had saved her life was definitely more powerful than any holy spell she had ever cast before. "I am but a paladin. I have no training in any other school of magic..."

Thalyssra frowned. "No one should be dabbling in the arcane arts without proper training. It is extremely dangerous. And to harness such force as we saw you use today," she nodded at Silgryn, "implies both training and great will." She stared hard at Kinsale, as if trying to see directly into her mind. "So I ask you again, what are you? Who are you? Explain to me why we should not consider you a threat to our organization."

The blood drained from Kinsale's face, and she felt chilled right through. They thought she was a spy! Her hand instinctively went to where Khadgar's mana gem usually hung from its cord, but it was not there. Then the realization struck. Khadgar. What other source of impressive power and force of will was she most commonly in contact with? She nervously moistened her lips to speak.

"I can't completely explain what happened, though I can say it has never happened before. Until today, I never felt that strange static when using my holy spells. However, perhaps you can answer this better than I can. My partner, my mate, is himself a master wizard. Are there not ways that he could have worked this magic through me?" She looked at each one of them, hoping they would have enough faith in her to consider this possibility.

Oculeth raised an eyebrow. "It is not impossible, Thalyssra. You have said yourself that once a link is established, arcane pathways can transcend physical space. We commonly take that to mean transportation and communication, but I see no reason to doubt that with sufficient power and an acceptable terminus receptacle, the pure, raw energy itself cannot also be transmitted."

"And I was in close combat with her, and felt no ill effects, no leaks or uncontrolled bursts," added Silgryn. "Between the origins of this power and her own strength of will, I think she will not unwittingly cause harm." At least Silgryn trusted her.

"Indeed, this phenomena should be investigated. It could be quite useful if such co-mingled powers could be replicated in other suitable hosts." Oculeth was already planning his next experiments.

Thalyssra seemed a bit doubtful, but nodded in acknowledgement of their statements. "I would still suggest some additional training, if as you say, you have had none. But on the strength of all you have done for our cause thus far, and the readiness of my colleagues to believe your reasoning, I will accept that you have only acted with the best intentions, and innocently used abilities of which you had no understanding." She was silent for a moment, following a line of thought in her own mind. "I would like to meet this mate of yours, when events allow."

Kinsale hesitated to answer. She tried not to bring it up whenever she could avoid it, but for the sake of maintaining trust among allies, perhaps it would be wise to disclose this time. "I believe you have already communicated with him, if not met him in person. He is the Archmage Khadgar." It did not have quite the same effect or carry the same weight as it would have had she said it in a group of her own peers, but even the minimal reactions evident on the faces of the Nightborne suggested that their respect for her had gone up a notch.

***

Thalyssra had agreed that Kinsale should report the progress of the resistance movement directly to the Kirin Tor Council, and gave her leave to spend a few days in Dalaran. Khadgar was waiting for her at the Landing as her gryphon gracefully settled its feet on the stones. He helped her pile her gear onto a couple of nearby porters and gave them directions to deliver it to her room in Greyfang Enclave.

He gave her a quick hug right there on the landing platform, and then said, "The Council is ready for your report. Do you need a moment or would you prefer to go straight there?"

"Let's get it over with so I can actually relax," she replied.

Khadgar smiled and, with his arm still around her, teleported them to meet the rest of the Council. 

Kinsale gasped when they arrived. This was the first time she had ever been permitted inside the Chamber of Air, the private conference room of the Kirin Tor Council, where the floors were stone but the walls and ceiling were composed of an endless and constantly shifting sky. She had heard rumors of this place, and the circle of magi, their appearances veiled in illusion or shadow, that had presided here for generations.

Khadgar stepped up to take his place in the circle of six, and not a face among them was obscured by any sort of disguise. She recognized them all:  Modera, Karlain, Vargoth, Ansirem Runeweaver, and Khadgar's closest friend, Kalec. They welcomed her as one voice, a strange chord that reverberated in the unusual acoustics of the room. Gradually she regained her equilibrium as she grew accustomed to the feeling of being perched atop the pinnacle of the world.

"Highlord Stormhammer," began Archmage Modera. "We understand you have been working directly with the leadership of the Nightfallen rebellion and have important developments to share. Please, tell us what you know."

Kinsale nodded, and began her report. In the long years she had been making such reports, she had developed an automatic ability to organize information into a logical and easily digested package, leaving nothing out but somehow staying entirely focused. It only took a few minutes for her to explain the entire surveillance operation thus far, from the reappropriation of correspondence and elimination of spies within the rebellion to the infiltration and destruction of the Legion internment camp. She watched as the council members exchanged glances and nodded during her retelling of events, and how their facial expressions changed when she described the capture and mistreatment of innocent Nightborne.

When she had finished, there was silence for a moment, and then Ansirem Runeweaver spoke. "Do you know what they plan next?"

"I only know that they still seek one of their lost or captured leaders, Vanthir. I left to come here before further plans had been made. We still gather the exiled Withered that roam the open land around the city, and restore them if possible. If they are too gone to be restored, we at least give them some mental peace and teach them to fight. With their help and a growing rebel force, there will soon be enough of an army to make a direct assault, but I am not certain what Thalyssra's strategy is."

Khadgar added, "I believe the leadership of the other elven branches are also planning to assist in the liberation of the Nightborne. I am not sure what their timeline is, but I know the intent is there." There were more nods.

"You can tell Thalyssra that we are aware of the danger of the Nightwell falling under the control of Gul'dan and the Legion." Khadgar's face grew stern. "We can't let that happen."

The sky in the chamber turned mercurially from a beautiful starry night to a fog so thick and grey that Kinsale actually felt chilled. She was glad when they had finished and Khadgar teleported her back out into the city.

***

They had nearly reached the Legerdemain when a paladin under Kinsale's command approached them in the street. It was Arator, son of Khadgar's old friends and comrades, Turalyon and Alleria. He inclined his upper body as a gesture of respect to their rank, and took a deep breath before he began to speak.

"Please forgive this abrupt interruption of what I am sure is a busy time for you both, but I wonder if you might have a few minutes to spare me? Something strange has been going on and I don't know who better to turn to than the two of you." His brow crinkled, his distress apparent.

Khadgar quickly put him at ease. "Of course, of course. Come, we were just going to have a quick meal. Join us, and tell us what troubles you." Kinsale laid her hand on the younger paladin's shoulder and gently turned him to walk with them towards the inn.

"I'm sure we can help in some way," she said as they passed through the broad entrance and headed towards their usual corner table. After their favorite cheese platter and a flagon of light wine had arrived, Khadgar entreated Arator to share his story.

"Well," he began, taking a sip of wine to moisten his throat, "you will know that there is a statue in the Sanctum of Light that honors my father and his sacrifices in the name of the Light." They both nodded. "I visit it regularly, as duties allow, and keep the statue cleaned and the plaque polished, and sometimes I bring flowers as I expect my mother might, were she here." Arator paused briefly. "Some months ago, I think it was shortly after the Silver Hand was reborn under your command, Highlord, I noticed a cuddly toy on the ledge before the statue."

Here Kinsale opened her mouth as if to speak, and then closed it again as Arator continued.

"I took it and put it in my room. I...I'm not sure why. But then more appeared, at irregular intervals. I asked the sentries and the others who are regularly in the hall, and they've all said that many come to pay their respects to my father, but they've noticed no one leave the toys. I've been gathering them all, nearly twenty now. You see, I believe that somehow they are manifesting through the statue, that somehow my father is sending them to me. Somehow he is near to us and is giving me the gifts he would have given me in childhood if he had not been waging war against the Legion all those years ago." His face looked unusually vulnerable as he looked from Kinsale's face to Khadgar's, hoping for an answer, any answer.

Khadgar, thinking how it was indeed very like something Turalyon might do if he had the power to do so, began to speak, but Kinsale put a hand on his arm before he said a word.

Very softly, she said, "I am afraid I have a very simple answer for your conundrum." She looked at Arator with compassion. "I left the cuddly toys. I don't know why no one told you it was me, I made no attempt to conceal my actions. I can only assume that it was because I am now Highlord that those who saw decided that it was not their business to share."

Arator and Khadgar both looked at her with perplexed expressions. "But...why?" asked Arator.

"I don't really know," replied Kinsale. "After all the turmoil of the Broken Shore, and Tirion, and being chosen by the Ashbringer and by all of you as Highlord, I spent a long time with all the shrines in the Sanctum. The last one I studied was Turalyon's. And then when the shard that was Xe'ra fell and brought with it a vision of Turalyon, I returned, and kept vigil there for some hours more. I don't remember how long. But as the changing light struck the statue, something stirred in me and I was warmed." She looked at Khadgar, seeing emotions she could not name flow across his face, and wished she could rationally explain her behavior.

"Soon after, I passed by a vendor in Dalaran selling the sort of toys I remembered from my childhood and I bought one purely for the nostalgia. On my next visit to the Sanctum it was in my bag, and it seemed natural that I should leave it as a token. I can't explain why. I don't know why. But it felt right and natural, and since then, when I come across similar plush toys, I pick one up to bring as a sort of offering." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, it's very strange and I'm sure it's not the answer you hoped for."

There was silence for a long moment as Arator considered this. Khadgar put his hand over Kinsale's on the table. He had determined that he was merely a bystander in this situation, and there was little he could add of worth that could not be better said by the paladins, although he did have some ideas he wanted to research further.

"Arator," said Kinsale. "I'm sure your father would do exactly as you thought, if he was able. And I am certain he is not far from us, though it may require a great rift or portal to make that clear. I, too, can feel his presence. And if my gifts comfort you, please accept them as your own."

He looked into her face, and seeing that what she said was true, at last spoke. "Thank you. For honoring my father, and believing in him, and for being kind to me. I could hope for no more." Arator slid his chair back from the table. "If you will excuse me, I must return to my duties." He stood, inclined his body once more, and gracefully took his leave.

As they watched him go, Kinsale said quietly, "I hope I haven't caused too much damage to his dream." Khadgar squeezed her hand.

"Dreams have a way of recovering," he said. He looked at her then, and had a strange sense of déjà vu. Something about the way the light was hitting her brow and jaw, what was it? The sensation quickly passed and he forgot whatever it was he'd noticed.

***

The arcane servant found them early the next morning, as they lingered over their breakfast of coffee and fresh-baked rolls. Khadgar accepted the scroll from its hand-shaped protrusion, glanced at it, and passed it over to Kinsale. "It's for you," he said.

Kinsale was still feeling worn out from the latest mission, but even so, she couldn't help but be amused at how Khadgar could read a message without opening it. She supposed if she had secrets she wouldn't find it so amusing. She unrolled the small square of parchment. It had only a few words scribed neatly upon it, but she stood up so fast that she knocked her chair over.

"They've located Vanthir. I must go back to Suramar to help recover him, to make sure he's safe and whole." Her face was alight with purpose. Khadgar recognized the expression, and remembered how it had drawn him to her in the first place. This time he felt an odd twinge inside as well, was it jealousy? He pushed it aside. He had to trust her. She had offered no reason for him not to.

He rose from his chair too, though not as precipitately. "Yes, I understand. I hope he is well." He held her tight as she flung herself into his arms. "I'll see you when you return."

Kinsale released him, and stepped back. "I must go!" she reiterated, and disappeared out the door.

Khadgar felt the flash of hope that had renewed her pass through his body as well. He prayed that she would not be disappointed.

***

With Kinsale gone back to Suramar, Khadgar decided to devote a bit more time to his research of her history. He had a feeling there was an answer out there that could tie up many of the loose threads in his mind, if he could just find it. He sat at his table and pulled out the page of notes he had made earlier, then flipped back to the place in the history of the Syndicate that had interested him. He rubbed his chin. 

Lifting one hand slightly, Khadgar sent his finding spell to retrieve another record from the shelves, one of the ranks of the army of Lordaeron. It found its way to Khadgar's hand nearly as quickly as he'd summoned it, and when he found what he sought in its pages, he called down another tome and another, until there was a pile of opened books on the table before him. He had long ago solved the mystery of what Kinsale's brother had done on that fateful night in Alterac, and had picked up the scent of another trail that led in an intriguing direction.

On a scrap of parchment he drew up a neat diagram, a family tree. Now he understood more clearly why he reacted to Kinsale the way he did, why she and her gifts with the light seemed familiar, why that movement of her head and the line of her jaw reminded him of someone else. She was related, although somewhat distantly, to that other someone. To one of his closest friends, though he had long been lost. To Turalyon.

He drew a sharp breath as suddenly the room began to give way to another vision, unintentional this time. This was not Karazhan, where visions came unbidden. This was his secure space, where shifts in time and space were controlled by him at all times. But Khadgar gave it a moment to see where it would take him before making any movement to quench it.

He stood on a hilltop above a small village. In the distance he could see the towers and pennants of a great fortified city, one that hadn't stood so proudly in many years. Capital City, the heart and soul of Lordaeron. Below him, in the village, a cart was being pulled by a single horse. A man, a woman with a rounded belly that showed she carried a child, and two small children sat on the seat in front. In the back of the cart was a long wooden box. Khadgar recognized the distinct profile of a coffin. A man was on his last journey home.

The sun was near to setting as the cart pulled up before one of the cottages in the village. The door opened and the warm glow of lamplight and and a crackling fire spilled out onto the street, along with another man and woman. As they were helping the young family down from the cart after their long journey, a boy of about fifteen came out and took the hands of the small girl and boy and led them inside as their parents were exchanging news and gathering baggage.

The boy glanced back once towards the eastern hilltop where Khadgar stood, watching. The light from inside the house outlined a three-quarter profile of his face, and shone through the small girl's loose hair, lighting it up like a torch.

At that moment, Khadgar knew who he was looking at, and why this of all visions should come to him here unbidden. As quickly as the scene had formed it began to dissolve. In the silence of his room, he could not help but believe that Turalyon was surely very near to them now.

***

Too often, Khadgar felt a sense of awe and disbelief that Kinsale cared for him the way she did. As he watched her, head bent over the diagram he had drawn of her lineage, he felt it intensely. Her auburn hair shone like silk in the light from the room's everburning candles. He waited patiently until she was done.

Kinsale lifted her head from the slip of parchment at last. "Why did you do this?" she asked, the tone of her voice flat. "Where did you get this information?" She wanted to rage at him, to strike him, to demand of him how he could dare to touch these private things she had so carefully buried in her past that she had no longer recalled them. She couldn't find the energy to do any of it.

The building tension of the last few weeks had weighed so heavily on her. The last few days alone had intensified the strain a hundredfold. From the constant hypervigilance of the undercover work, then the intentional capture and deportation and subsequent narrow escape from death, to at last facing an implied accusation of being a spy and a traitor, Kinsale was very near to collapse. Even the joy of recovering a treasured friend alive had only been able to offset the stress temporarily. Now Khadgar was showing her how he'd been picking over her personal history like the carcass of a Winter Veil turkey and she knew that in some distant universe she felt violated and angry. She could feel the rage burning deep inside, but her mind was muddled, spinning. She laid the parchment scrap between the leaves of the Syndicate history, and carefully set the book down on the table.

This obviously wasn't quite the reaction Khadgar had expected. It had been like the sun coming out from behind a cloud for him, revealing the patterns and connections that had been only shadows and suggestions before. He had hoped that giving her the answers he'd found would help her find some resolution, but he was beginning to think he had sorely misjudged the situation.

Well, he was already neck deep in it, and he saw no sense in trying to back out. Best to just try to reach the other side as cleanly as possible. "I wanted to find answers for you about your brother, so that perhaps you could find some peace, or justice, or whatever you needed." Wisely he left out the fact that he'd deliberately summoned a vision of the night she'd been struck down. He knew that for some people it was akin to being spied upon, and with her recent endeavors it might be a sensitive area for Kinsale.

"That information seemed to lead directly into something I was personally curious about," he continued. "There were times you seemed to remind me of someone else, times you seemed more familiar to me than you should have been. The conversation you had with Arator was a significant clue, and I had a hunch that you had some sort of connection with Turalyon, but even then the possibilities didn't fully register with me. And there were some other questions I needed to resolve, which I haven’t quite done yet, but this information is at least positive supporting evidence." Khadgar hesitated over how to explain.

Kinsale just looked at him, waiting, expressionless. All the time spent with elves had given her plenty of practice. He almost wished she was visibly angry. It might have been easier to answer if he could tell what bothered her most. Instead he had to feel his way ahead and hope he didn't continue to tread wrongly. And explaining how he'd had to put the Kirin Tor above her personal privacy was going to be awkward.

How could he put this without seeming like an imperious ass? He took a deep breath and continued to plunge forward. "I need to try and understand how you use magic. I trust you and your abilities, but I have a responsibility to the Kirin Tor, whose province it is to guide and oversee the safe and proper use of magical power in these lands. And quite honestly, you surprise me all the time with what you can do. You've done things that never would have occurred to me to even try." He thought of the modified mana gem that was still in his pocket.

She thought of the arcane lightning that had magnified the power of her holy fire and saved her life. He would want to know about that too, and she had been prepared to ask him about it, but now she wasn't ready to discuss it. She wasn't ready to discuss anything. She definitely wasn't ready to be anyone's test subject, not Oculeth's and not the Kirin Tor's. She needed to get away by herself for a while before she completely dissolved and the sense of violation and rage overtook her.

Khadgar wasn't able to reach her through their link, in fact he hadn't been able to since she had returned this last time from Suramar, but he could still sense the raw edges of her distress. And it was at least partly his fault this time. He felt guilty and wanted to offer comfort but feared he was in no position to do so. Instead, he offered an apology. "I'm sorry, I could have done all of this better. I should have discussed it with you before I started investigating, and I really could have waited to share the results until you weren't so exhausted. Please, if you need rest and solitude, I understand."

She closed her eyes for a moment and drew a slow breath. Opening them again, Kinsale at last spoke. "I don't know how you expected me to take this, any of this. But right now I just am not in a place where I can deal with it. You're right, I  _ am  _ exhausted, and I need some time."

He nodded. "You know how to find me. Whenever you need me." His hand stretched out for her almost with a will of its own, his fingertips brushing her arm, but she was already turning to go. The brilliant glow of hope he had felt when he had been able to place Kinsale and Turalyon squarely within the same Tirisfalen line had dimmed somewhat, but surely she would feel it too, when she could see more clearly again. Khadgar wished he'd been able to hold her, to feel her heart beating beside his, but to have held her unwilling, stiff and solemn and unresponsive, would have been more heartbreaking than letting her be.

***

She had meant to return to her quarters, but had walked past the entrance to Greyfang Enclave before she realized she was there. Her steps lost their rhythm for just a split second as she made the decision to just continue on into the city instead of turning around. The noise and commotion of the mages and soldiers and traders that filled the streets around her made her feel jumpy, but Kinsale knew another place where she could go, one where she could breathe the late autumn air but still feel in control of who came near her.

She entered the upper reception hall of the Chamber of the Guardian, and when she was alone in the room, she slipped behind a Kirin Tor banner that masked the entrance to a narrow spiral stair. Silently she climbed until at last she reached the pinnacle of one of Dalaran's lavender-colored minarets. It commanded a full view of the city below, and beyond, the distant contours of the Broken Isles.

Here she was no longer protected from the winds that swirled around the floating city, and she could smell the salt of the sea below. Kinsale wrapped her cloak more tightly around her as she leaned against one of the pillars that supported the graceful arches atop the tower, and watched the sun drop below the horizon, waiting for the cold air to clear her mind.

She couldn't escape the feeling of helplessness and despair that had loomed over her as she had stood captive to the fel-tainted elves in Suramar. It had been entirely voluntary on her part, and she had been fully aware of the allies that waited to free her and her fellow prisoners, but fear had still threatened to paralyze her. The sense of calm that she had reclaimed in the market before her capture had dissipated, and it still had not returned. Kinsale did not feel any sense of accomplishment at having thwarted the Legion by destroying their camp, or even at liberating dozens of prisoners.

It felt like she was facing the immense monolith of the Burning Legion, merely an insect in its path, tinder for its fire. Her past, her future, it all meant nothing. The tiny burst of hope she had felt when she had joined in to rescue Vanthir, the relief that accompanied his safe return to the haven of Shal'Aran, it had all faded so quickly. There was no future left, only the Legion. Her hand slipped to her chest, once again seeking the mana gem that had been her anchor in the last few troubled months. She knew Khadgar waited for her, she could feel him just beyond the edge of her mind, and now, physically away from him, she longed for the comfort he brought her. But she dared not unlock that door just yet. If this wretchedness were to infect his spirit as well, she would never forgive herself.

A brief glint in the street below caught her eye. Windle Sparkshine was making his rounds of the city with his wand of illumination, and the shining armor of a young paladin had reflected the glow of a freshly-lit lantern. She couldn't quite make out his face, but in his movements she could read the happiness he felt as he greeted a comrade. As she watched, his pleasure at seeing his friend transmuted into an aura, a faint shimmer of Light that was only visible to a few with the gift of seeing such things. Kinsale sighed into the wind, and something that was knotted within her loosened slightly.

The Light was still here. She could not forsake hope, if the Light still stood with her and those who fought against the forces of evil. Kinsale slid a hand out from beneath her cloak and focused on it, bringing up from the depths of her being a tiny orb of concentrated light to hover above her palm. She closed her fingers over it and absorbed it back into herself once more. She was not yet lost, but she was so tired, inside and out.

Then she recalled how Khadgar had been so exhausted after the battle in the Legion command ship that he had nearly fallen off Kalec's broad blue-scaled back over the sea between Suramar and Dalaran. He'd fallen asleep so heavily by the time they had reached the tower of the Violet Citadel that Kinsale had feared it was a coma brought on by demonic possession, not unlike his former master's. At the time she had thought the greater part of the fatigue was brought on by the long moments he had spent near death, but now she wondered if it was really caused by the drain of his power during the fight. If that was so, was this weariness she felt partly a result of the arcane energy that had flowed through her to save her life and win the most recent skirmish in Suramar?

Kinsale didn't have the background or training to fully understand what arcane power could and couldn't do to a person, and unlike some Light-bearers she had never entirely trusted to faith as the single best answer to any question. She believed that knowledge was just as important as faith, and now saw that she would have to seek Khadgar's -- and the Kirin Tor's -- greater knowledge of arcane phenomena, and submit to an examination of her abilities. She hoped that in doing so she would have a better idea of what her limitations were, and how to live with them. And then, after all that was resolved, maybe then she could handle the other things Khadgar had shown her.

The wind dropped off somewhat as full night began to spread across Dalaran. All the lanterns that lined the streets and alleyways of the city were now lit, Windle's job for the evening complete. The jumble of traffic had grown quieter as people headed home or into the warm interiors of the city inns for their evening meals. Kinsale was not hungry, but she was ready to be warm again. She turned away from the view and descended the narrow stair to street level.

In her single bed at last, alone but warm, she probed her emotional state like a child examines a scab on her knee. Was she solid enough yet? Safe to open up? Or would letting her lover back into her soul be too much too soon? Part of her longed to be in his arms, or at least to reach out for the less tangible but still comforting spiritual embrace they often shared. But the other part of her was still bound up in itself, unable to deal with other people until it had time to untangle. So she compromised, and opened herself just enough to steal through and touch Khadgar, like a fleeting kiss on the cheek, before dodging back within her consciously-constructed shell, without waiting to detect his response.

She was fast asleep before she even had time to adjust the covers one last time, the fatigue at last overwhelming her willpower.

***

Kinsale started awake from a deep sleep, but even after the moment it usually took to clear her head and recognize her surroundings, she still didn't know where she was or what was going on. Her hands could feel the quilts that covered her, but her eyes saw rough stone walls glistening with damp and faintly glowing, and a steep staircase that spiraled down before her.

A tall, dark-haired young man, a boy, really, was racing down the stairs in front of her, taking them two and three at a time. She could just make out the golden outline of the Lion of Stormwind on the dark colored tabard he wore, and a sword that was improperly sized for his height and reach banged against his hip. Kinsale was like a spirit drifting down the stairs behind him, gradually growing closer without feeling any sensation of movement at all. She had no senses at all that she could tell, apart from vision. Was this some strange sort of dream?

Then the stairs abruptly ended and they faced a massive door. It swung open silently to reveal a sprawling cavern with a strangely glassy floor. In the sourceless ambient light of the cavern, she could see more of the boy's features--the white streak that shot through his dark hair, the elegant neck that rose from his broad shoulders. She was still slowly drifting closer and closer to him, and she tried to adjust her position to see his face, but her direction was unchangeable and his identity still remained a mystery to her.

In the center of the cavern she could see an arrangement of workroom furniture, tables and cabinets, seemingly displaced but somehow appropriate. Then something shifted, and they were standing in the center of this arrangement, facing an older man, a wizard, clearly, by his ornate robes.

Again there was a shift, a jolting lurch, and Kinsale was at the boy's shoulder as the young soldier was lifted off the ground by a thundering beam of energy, the breath squeezed out of him. She was startled to watch as the great wizard drew the life force from the boy, and he aged dramatically before her eyes, his dark hair turning to pure silver. The wizard lowered his arm and the magic ceased to flow. The now elderly man was dropped carelessly to the floor.

Kinsale dropped with him, and as her shadowy form merged with his she saw his reflection in the gloss of the floor through his own eyes. She felt her throat close as she realized what she had been seeing. This was Khadgar's transformation. The wizard was Medivh. And now she was feeling with all Khadgar’s senses, and as overwhelmed by them as he was. Yet under the immense physical pain and the emotional despair, and the gaping hole where his power should have been, she felt a faltering belief that he would survive this.

And then as the scene shifted one final time, she was with Khadgar in his anguish as he drove his sword through his master's heart. As they watched, Medivh began to transform into a horrific demonic form. Sargeras. He grew larger. Horns sprouted from his face and body and his skin turned to molten bronze. The hilt of Khadgar's blade grew warm and then burning hot in their hands, but they could not let go of it.

She could hear a broken, cracking voice in the distance, screaming, crying out for help, and it took a moment for Kinsale to realize it was Khadgar's newly aged voice, burning from Sargeras' acrid fumes. It rapidly grew louder until she could feel it coming from within her.

"Lothar! Lothar!" he cried over and over, in desperation and abject terror. But Lothar was not here. It was only Khadgar and Sargeras. No one was here to strike the final blow, to release the demon from Medivh's body and soul. She knew for certain then that this was pure nightmare, and it was not her own.

Sargeras' head began to distort and enlarge and his mouth opened wide, and wider yet, becoming an endless gaping maw of the void. She felt Khadgar shiver in horror as it descended to close over him.

The link broke and she was alone in her silent quarters, staring with wide eyes at the shadows of the ceiling above her bed.

***

The sentries that stood watch before the Violet Citadel recognized her as she raced up the steps towards them, and opened the door for her to enter. She flew past them into the reception hall and almost immediately crashed into the one person she'd hoped most to find, Kalec. He caught her by the shoulders to keep her from falling, his grip strong enough that it hurt.

"Kinsale," he said. "Slow down."

"I must get to Khadgar," she told him, out of breath from her panicked run from Greyfang Enclave. "Please...the gryphon wouldn't come...I must get upstairs."

He released her. He looked around the hall to ensure they were quite alone. "A nightmare?" he asked softly, though he seemed to know the answer already.

Kinsale was surprised that he knew about them, but they were friends, after all. Perhaps Khadgar had told him. She had always hesitated to tell anyone about her own nightmares, but Khadgar was a different sort of person entirely. She nodded. "Yes." She couldn't bring herself to tell him how she had experienced it herself, but just the fact that Kalec knew about them at all eased her panic. Khadgar had clearly survived more than one. "Please, can you transport me?"

"Of course," he replied, and began to generate the shimmering swirls that would allow her to step from one part of the Citadel into another. Kalec watched her go, and hoped that her talents would be able to ease his friend's suffering more than his own had been able to. Khadgar had never told him what he dreamed of; he only knew the rage and terror that was present in the aftermath. Perhaps Kinsale, with the advantage of their powerful mental bond, would be able to address the source directly.

The chamber was very dim, but not so dark that the outlines of objects were invisible. Kinsale found her way to the side of Khadgar's bed, and called a soft, healing glow to her hand so that she might see him clearly. He was still asleep, twisted and tangled in sheets damp with his perspiration, his face pale and lined with strain. She knelt beside where he lay upon the low bed, and reached out her hand to stroke his cheek, to smooth the sweat-darkened hair back from his brow. Before she could touch him, his hand had caught her wrist in an iron grip. His eyes flew open, dark with anger, unfocused, unable to recognize the face before him. With his other hand he rapidly wove an attack spell and flung it at her. It was powerful enough that it would have knocked Kinsale across the room had she not lifted her own free hand, still aglow, and absorbed the spell's energy quite effortlessly.

Khadgar's eyes widened slightly as he realized who he was attacking, and he ceased the offensive. His grip on her wrist lessened but he did not let go. In a fluid movement he sat up and swung his feet to the floor, freeing himself from the restricting bedding. The expression on his face shifted from rage to a sort of hunger, and he pulled her face to his and kissed her fiercely, crushing her lips against his. He slid to the floor and pushed her down, covering her body with his own. He was assailed by the need for warmth and life, and she gave it to him willingly, for she needed it just as fiercely. She let him consume her, to use her as he desired so that he might find relief. She could do no less as his emotions poured through her, unchecked.

At last the roar dimmed to a hum, and they were spent, lying nerveless and drained upon the rug as the grey light that comes before dawn imperceptibly filled the chamber. Khadgar summoned the energy to lift himself to his feet and bent to pull Kinsale up as well. His fingers traced a rune in the air, and a gust of warm, dry air ruffled the sheets and blankets on the bed, returning them to a usable state. They collapsed together there, to gather a bit of rest before full daylight was upon them.

***

It was much later than usual when they finally woke. The sky outside was still grey, and the light in the room had not been strong enough to break through their exhausted slumber. Kinsale's hand lay upon Khadgar's chest, and his hand covered hers. She was open now with him, unguarded. The walls always fell away when she was not consciously attending to keeping them in place, as evidenced by the previous night's experiences. As her mind returned to wakefulness, she vowed to never sequester herself again unless their lives depended upon it. He felt the same doubts and fears she did, so it was foolish of her to think he wouldn't understand. It was unfair to them both to deny the link they had never dreamed they would share.

As they made ready for the day ahead, Kinsale told Khadgar everything about what had happened in Suramar, from the moment of capture to the liberation of the holding camp and the accusations made afterwards by Thalyssra. She detailed how Silgryn's observations and advocacy was what led to her inclusion in the mission to rescue Vanthir, the innkeeper who facilitated the rebellion from within the city. He listened thoughtfully as she painted the picture as skillfully as she had in every report she had ever made, though these images contained far subtler shading as she described how she felt as well as what she did.

When she finished her recitation, they stood facing each other. He could feel her presence within him more strongly than ever. Was this what it was like to be possessed? He thought not, because his decisions still seemed to be fully his own. But he couldn't be entirely sure.

"Khadgar," she said, reaching out to touch his arm. "Your nightmare...I was there with you. You were not alone. You aren't alone anymore."

For a moment he felt faint, like the shock of stage fright when the spotlight comes on. Then he caught his breath again. He didn't know what to say, but he felt he should say something.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I should have warned you."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. We live frightening lives and have to deal with the consequences. I have my own nightmares." Kinsale tilted her head slightly to the side as she watched his face change. "If I didn't expect something like that, it was my own fault. And I know you were far more terrified than I was. For you, it's real." She moved close to him then, slipping her arms around his waist and hugging him gently. He held her there for a short while before they stepped apart again.

Khadgar smiled a sad smile, as if remembering the boy he once was, the one who had vanished that fateful night so many years before. "I'm glad you're here," he said to her, and opened the door to the balcony where a fine, strong gryphon awaited to take them down to street level.

***

After they'd had their coffee together at the Legerdemain, Kinsale and Khadgar parted ways. Kinsale had made up her mind to request larger quarters, and headed straight for the billeting office in Greyfang Enclave.

The officer at the desk stood as she entered, in deference to her rank. She explained that she would like larger rooms if some were available, preferably something that would allow her space to work as well as sleep.

Officer Stafford opened his ledger and his eyebrows shot up when he saw the room that Kinsale currently occupied. He looked up at her, mortified. "Ma'am, I was unaware you were assigned such inadequate quarters. Those were designed as temporary accommodation for the footman ranks. I am sure we can remedy the situation immediately."

"Don't trouble yourself about where I've been staying. During the jumble of the reorganization of the Dalaran garrison, I was more interested in just having a bed to sleep in. What with being out on missions more than I was in town, it suited me just fine." Kinsale felt no need to rip into the subordinate officer for doing his job exactly as she had requested months before, if he had even been the one holding the position then. She also felt no need to fully explain why she wanted larger quarters now. "I'm just going to be in town more often, and I will need room to work as well as sleep. And I certainly wouldn't frown at a larger, more comfortable bed."

Stafford nodded. He flipped a few more pages in his enormous ledger. "Yes, ma'am, I have something available that would be much more appropriate to your rank and should more than meet your requirements." He reached for his pen, and after dipping it into its inkwell, scratched her name and some indecipherable code onto the page. He replaced the pen in its stand and turned to open the shallow cabinet on the wall behind him, and selected a key from a peg before closing and securing the cabinet again.

He handed the key to Kinsale. "Here you are, ma'am. Top floor, southeast corner. Two large rooms and private, ahem, facilities. If you need assistance moving your personal effects, please let me know, and I will send someone up right away. Just return the key to your old quarters as soon as you have vacated them. Thank you, ma'am, and sorry about the misunderstanding before."

Kinsale smiled at the officer and thanked him for his help. She took her new key and went off to explore her new living space.

While she was organizing all this, Khadgar was roaming the Hall of the Guardian, looking for his most trusted friend. At last he turned the right corner and saw the dragon-mage standing before a large bookcase, scanning the titles of the tomes that filled the shelves. They greeted each other and shared only a brief conversation before Khadgar thanked Kalec and continued on with another goal in mind. 

Kalec was glad to see his friend was his normal self after the unsettling events of the previous night. He looked at the clock to calculate how much time he had before the meeting that had just been arranged, then returned to his perusal of the bookshelf.

***

"You understand Khadgar just wants me to assess whether or not you have native ability? This is not meant as any sort of judgment on you." Kalec spoke with a kindly tone. He had the impression that Kinsale was not entirely pleased with the changes she was experiencing with regards to the control of her power.

"I understand. I need to know what's happening as much as you do." At least they were able to be out in Elwynn Forest on a lovely day. The trees in their autumn colors were brilliant in the sunlight.

Kalec bent to pick up a fallen leaf along the path. "One of the simplest tests is a leaf test," he told her as he examined the leaf. After taking note of its features, he handed it to Kinsale. "Take this," he said, "and imagine it catching on fire. See if you can transfer the thought to reality."

She held the leaf carefully by its stem and focused her attention and energy upon it. It vaporized in a small burst of white light.

"That was lovely, but that was holy fire. We're looking for the good, old-fashioned campfire variety." He handed her another leaf. "Picture a candle flame. Feel it heating up the cells of the leaf until they explode and become the flame."

Kinsale held this leaf out away from her, and concentrated even more carefully. The leaf, already golden, became more radiant, but failed to burn.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't think I can do it." She handed the leaf back to Kalec. He thoroughly scrutinized it, then slipped it carefully into a pocket concealed in his cloak to show Khadgar later.

"I would like you to try one more time," he said, proffering a third leaf, this one the color of rubies. "This time, before you act upon the leaf at all, I want you to think about Khadgar. Anything about him. Then try to set your leaf alight."

She let this leaf rest in her palm and closed her eyes, imagining Khadgar, remembering his smile at her that morning, remembering how he'd laughed at the squirrel that had nearly fallen out of its tree in pursuit of a particularly large acorn. She pictured his brilliant blue eyes and the way they softened when they looked at her.

Then she thought of the leaf, visualizing flames licking its edges, consuming it. When she opened her eyes again, the leaf still lay quietly in her hand. She shook her head. "I think that decides that. Something else must be going on."

Kalec took the third leaf back from her. His eloquent eyebrow lifted as he probed it. "Something is indeed happening. Come, let us return to Dalaran and we will discuss these results with Khadgar." He tucked the third leaf away with the second.

But he hesitated a moment before creating a portal. Kinsale could tell there was something he wanted to say.

“I know about the nightmares," he told her. "He has always had them. Not often, but often enough." Kalec watched her face to see her response.

"Are they always the same?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied. He focused even more intently on her face. "Did you...see it?" Would their bond allow them to share such things as dreams?

"Yes," she answered simply. "He pulled me in. I was with him and awake throughout." She felt a familiar spasm in her gut as she remembered the overwhelming sense of despair she had experienced.

Kalec reached out and gently touched her arm. "I am sorry you had to experience it like that, but it may be the best thing for Khadgar, to have you there. I wish I could relieve him of the horror, but it is too deep for my abilities to reach."

Kinsale didn't want to reveal too much of what was not hers to tell, so she merely said, "It is just part of being human, to live with such nightmares. And not all of them happen while sleeping." She saw Kalec's expression slip from the impassive, unreadable elven mask she usually saw to something far closer to human. Even a dragon has feelings, and she easily recognized these.

If she had known him better, she would have known he had never been very good at hiding his true feelings, not even in the half-elven body he assumed. But he said nothing else that gave her any insight. He only turned and created a portal to Dalaran and politely ushered her through it.

***

"The results of the examination are very interesting. You might even call them illuminating." Kalec's lips turned up at the edges. Apparently dragons had an inclination towards puns that rivaled that of gnomes.

Khadgar usually enjoyed a good play on words, but he was impatient to hear Kalec's findings. "Please, go on. What did you determine?"

Kinsale was just hoping for any kind of answer. This hanging about between places, magically speaking, was wearing. She preferred having her feet firmly placed, knowing where she was.

Kalec handed Khadgar the golden leaf. "This was our second attempt. The first was vaporized, but by holy energy, not arcane."

Khadgar looked at the leaf. It was indeed lovely, but there were no scorch marks or indications it had ever been touched by flame. "It is whole. I see no signs of burning."

Kalec nodded. "Exactly. It is whole. It is entirely whole. Look closely. That leaf is perfect, save for it being no longer attached to its tree. It has been healed into the full potential of that specific leaf."

Khadgar took a closer look, and scanned it with an arcane resonance spell. The leaf had been fully repaired and reconstructed so that it bore no scars or blemishes at all. It had been thoroughly renewed by Kinsale's abilities in the Light.

Kalec handed him the third leaf, the red one, and said nothing. Khadgar examined it visually and then used the same resonance spell to probe its structure.

"But that's..." His face showed his surprise, and Kalec finished the sentence for him.

"That's your signature. I asked Kinsale to visualize you in some way before attempting to set this leaf alight. She was still unable to call a flame, but you can see the arcane crystallization that has occurred, and it was your power that did it."

Kinsale, too, was surprised. She had wondered why Kalec had been so interested in that leaf. Then a thought occurred to her.

"I know I'm a bit close to the situation and may not be fully objective, but isn't it possible that this is all precisely because of my paladin training? I mean, applied in a different context, but the same basic mechanism."

Khadgar and Kalec both looked at her.

"How so, exactly?" Khadgar asked.

"As paladins, we are trained to consider ourselves empty vessels, ready to be filled with the Light. When the Light accepts us as worthy, we are filled and have its power at our disposal, provided our intent and our actions are in accordance with its tenets."

Khadgar saw where she was headed with this. "And you think you've done this with me, also. Only I have not intentionally bestowed any power upon you. It makes some sense, quite a bit, really, except for my end."

"Not meaning insult in anyway, but how many times have you had such a meeting of mind, body, and soul?" Kalec's voice was gentle, but his question was like an arrow to the heart of the issue. He was not without experience himself.

Khadgar turned his radiant blue eyes upon his friend. "Are you saying I just haven't learned to manage myself in the situation?" He wasn't at all offended by Kalec's suggestion, but curious at what insight his friend might offer.

"I think it may be that you can't help it. Or one step beyond that, it may be necessary. If it becomes a problem, you will have to work together to develop techniques for controlling it, but that shouldn't be an issue." Kalec smiled as he thought of the opposite side of the equation. "We should be testing you for your use of holy power as well," he told Khadgar.

"Hmm, perhaps we should." Khadgar raised his hand and drew a rune in the air. A translucent shield that glittered with ice crystals sprung up around him. Both he and Kalec examined its resonance frequencies for unusual signatures.

Khadgar's eyebrows went up and Kalec said, "Yes!" as they simultaneously found the same overlay in the spell framework.

Kinsale's own training had not instructed her in the examination of magical networks, but she could sense the Light wherever it was present. She always felt it was part of Khadgar, but she could see it clearly in his frost shield as well.

But it took Kalec's greater abilities as a former Dragon Aspect to definitely identify the source. "Yes, that is definitely originating with Kinsale. I'm going to go with the idea that the conduit that has opened between you is facilitating this flow, whether or not your minds are consciously linked."

Khadgar still looked concerned. "You don't think this compromises us in any way? I have heard that some wizards choose to stay celibate, and also some priests, to maximize their power. As we are both leaders of the forces defending Azeroth, we need to be in possession of our full strength."

Kinsale felt a pang of loss as he said this, but fully understood his point. They were risking too much, too many lives, if they were at all compromised. And with so much not in their power to control, it was imperative that they control what they could.

Kalec shook his head. He conjured a glowing purple orb and sent it to float on the opposite side of the room. Kinsale could see numbers and symbols spinning and swirling across its surface.

"Hit that with your strongest frostbolt," he instructed Khadgar. "I will measure its impact."

Khadgar cast the requested spell, and the orb exploded in a shower of ice crystals. Kalec's fingers worked in the air and numbers hovered in front of him, translucently luminous, before they vanished again.

"I do not think your power is in any way diminished. In fact, these numbers suggest it may have grown." Kalec smiled. "A greater supply of Light simply gives you more raw material to organize into arcane construction." His face softened, and he continued, "And love has given you other resources to draw upon. Do not turn your back on that. It is even more valuable."

Khadgar looked at the perfect golden leaf again, and at Kinsale. She was watching him, waiting for him to accept Kalec's pronouncement. The anxiety within him dissolved, and he felt the surge of warmth as the Light returned. He smiled.

"Then we shall call it good," he said.

***

They had agreed to meet in Everlook for an evening meal. Not that the inn was anything special, but it was Winter Veil and the snowy backwoods landscape seemed seasonally appropriate, and it was well off the beaten path. Khadgar arrived first, of course, being able to travel direct. He sat down in the corner of the inn, and pulled a small violet silk pouch out of the inside of his robe. He tipped its contents into his hand, and turned the item over and over in his hand, examining every detail closely. He sensed Kinsale's arrival well before she reached the inn, and slipped the object into its pouch and tucked it away again in plenty of time.

The inn door swung open, and Kinsale blew in with a little swirl of snow. Her cheeks were pink from the cold but her eyes sparkled and she smiled with delight when she saw Khadgar waiting for her. He stood to greet her with a warm hug and a kiss, which she readily reciprocated. They sat across the table from each other, the heat from the inn's blazing wood stove warming them both equally. The serving maid brought them a pitcher of ale and two mugs, and returned in another moment with two steaming bowls of stew and a loaf of crusty bread.

The food was good and warmed them, but as usually happened, being together warmed them more. It was a challenge to snatch moments like these away from the demands and obligations of life during wartime. When they were successful, the very act of getting away gave them a rush. The ale only intensified the effect.

"We should go for a walk! It was just beginning to snow when I came in on the Dimensional Rifter." Kinsale reached across the table for Khadgar's hand. One of her favorite winter treats was walking in the snow at night, when everything was light like daytime. Her other hand slid into her pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, enough to pay for their meal and leave a generous gratuity besides. She dropped them on the table and pulled Khadgar off his bench towards the door. He followed willingly.

It was still snowing when they stepped outside, the flakes drifting slowly down in the cold, still air. Two inches or more had collected since they had arrived, but it was light and fluffy and easy to walk through. The torches of Everlook reflecting off the ice crystals made the air appear full of showering sparks. They walked out through the town gates and down the white-blanketed road into the forest where the evergreen trees stood like silent sentries in their frozen cloaks. No one else was out, and the squeaking of their boots in the snow was the loudest sound they could hear. Khadgar listened closely and could just detect the faint crystalline whispering sound of the flakes falling. He'd never realized how much he'd missed winter in the unchanging seasons of Outland.

The air was cold, but not so far below freezing that they were not warmed by their exercise. Their breaths puffed out white before them as they walked, hand in hand. A path broke off from the road ahead, leading off towards the old elvish ruins, visible only by the depression in the fresh snow and the intermittent exposed parts where it ran in the shelter of the trees. Kinsale and Khadgar looked at each other, and without needing words they agreed, and turned off the road.

The trail climbed a small hill through the deepening shadow of the forest, and Khadgar called a glow to his staff to light their way. When at least they reached the top of the hill, the trees fell away to reveal the frozen lake and its frozen ruins. The snow had stopped for a time, and a break in the clouds allowed the light of the White Lady, the larger of Azeroth's two moons, to shine down over the silent landscape and set the ruins aglow with an ethereal radiance. Khadgar allowed his staff to go dim once more as they stopped to absorb the scene.

After a few minutes he turned to her. Reaching into his robe, he pulled out the silk pouch once more. "Kins, I brought something for you," he said, and placed the tiny bag, still warm from his body, into her hand. She looked up into his face and down at the pouch and back into his face again before she tugged the cords open and tipped the contents out into her palm.

The mana gem that had brought them together lay sparkling in her palm, only now it was covered in a delicate tracery of truesilver that glinted in the moonlight, and was attached to a fine silver chain. She caught her breath. "Our gem! It's so beautiful now." Kinsale looked back up into his eyes, smiling. "Thank you! I have missed it."

"It would not be here without you. It has been made an everlasting gem by your use and yours alone. I had the jewelers in Dalaran create this truesilver filigree to my design, with a runic pattern that allows you to use the gem to transport yourself directly to my quarters in the Violet Citadel, even through all the spell wards. It is the safest place in Dalaran, if not all Azeroth, and I want you to have access, whether or not I am there. If I  _ am  _ there, you may have other reasons for wanting to visit." Khadgar's eyes twinkled, and he very nearly winked at her.

"It's perfect. And I didn't realize I would change it by using it as I did, but I  _ am  _ glad it will last." The chain was long enough to slip over her head, so she did so without worrying about undoing the clasp. The gem fell again just over her heart, where she had carried it, unadorned, in a tiny sack on a cord for so long. It felt like it had come home again. Kinsale sighed. "I have something for you too," she said, reaching into the scrip she wore on her belt. "I wish it was as special and unique as your gift, but at the very least it should be a comfort. At its best it ought to be useful, too." She handed him a small wooden box, not much larger than the violet silk bag she now tucked away in a pocket.

He lifted the lid and in the light still pouring down through the break in the clouds he saw a round, silvery disk on a bed of soft wool. He carefully lifted the coin-sized object out of its box and examined it closely. On its face was an embossed silver hand, and a blessing was etched on its reverse.

"It's a token of the Silver Hand," Kinsale explained. "It is arcanite, imbued with the Light such that it can be called upon in times of need, when your life or soul is in danger. Just touch it and speak the words of the blessing on the back. I...I tried to make it so that it would alert me at such a time, but I don't know if I can actually make something like that work. We will have to rely on our other means of communication." Their telepathic link had become truly solid in the not-quite-five months they'd had to adjust to it, but they both worried it would be unavailable when it was truly needed, as it had been in the attack on the Legion command ship.

Khadgar turned the token over into his other palm and ran his finger over the inscription. The hand holding the round of arcanite suddenly became brighter than the moonlight on the snow, and warm as though it were held against a flame. He was startled, nearly dropping the token but catching it just as it slipped through his fingers. He took the token away from his left hand again, and the light dimmed by half, but his palm still glowed, or rather, an irregular oblong shape in the center of his palm still glowed.

Kinsale's eyes widened as she saw the outline become apparent. She grabbed his hand to get a better look. "But that's...I didn't think...I didn't mean..." She stumbled over her words, unable to find what she meant to say. She swallowed as Khadgar looked at her in amazement. "I didn't think it would actually do that. I'm sorry."

"What is it?" he asked.

"It looks like...well I think it  _ is _ a fragment of my soul. From before I went on that mission in Suramar, the one where we destroyed the internment camp. I was so worried as I was waiting for the patrol to come through the market, I imagined taking a piece of myself and securing it with you. I needed to calm myself down so I wouldn't risk the mission, and it worked. I felt much clearer after I went through the process in my head. I just sort of imagined how I thought warlocks made soul stones. I had no idea it would actually work, especially with you at a great distance." She let his hand go, and he lifted it and peered intently at it like it was something he had never seen before.

Absentmindedly, he said, "I was at no great distance. I was just above you, perched on a ledge. In raven form." He held his hand up higher, observing how the light reacted to him flexing his hand, noting how he could not feel the presence of any foreign object.

"I can remove it if you wish, I'm sure it would just be a matter of reversing the imagery." Kinsale felt terrible for invading Khadgar's person without his permission or even his knowledge.

His eyes returned immediately to her face, with all the focus they had given his hand. "If you don't mind, I would like to keep it. I am truly honored that you felt more secure after giving it to me in the first place. It would be a tremendous comfort to me to continue to carry it." With his luminous hand he stroked her cheek. "And I can only imagine that it would empower this token with greater potential." He laughed. "How you can just think of working a magic you are not trained to execute and be successful at it...I am dumbfounded. You have a gift with the Light, and clearly your decades of training have ingrained its workings so deeply that you can bend it intuitively in ways that more conscious users would never think to." He bent to kiss her gently. "I thank you for this gift," he said. "It is the most precious thing I have ever been given."

The clouds above had drifted closed again, and as they embraced each other there on the overlook, the snow began to float down upon them once more.

***

Khadgar watched as the exquisitely-robed gnome unrolled a large scroll, and leaned across the table to help him weight the corners down with a few of the tomes that were near to hand. The scroll was a map, precisely scaled and covered with detailed notes, the work of several months' worth of exploration on the part of the mages' order hall.

Archmage Senach cleared his throat. "What we have here is an accurate map of the Arcway, which I'm sure you know is the series of tunnels that run not only beneath the city of Suramar but extend well beyond its borders into the surrounding countryside. We have determined," he nodded at his two companions, a dwarf and another gnome, "that this will likely be the most successful way of accessing the Nighthold. Arcanist Valtrois, of the rebel force in Shal'Aran, is of a similar opinion, and has focused her research in this area as well. Once she has compiled her report, we should be able to pinpoint the most effective location for an assault force to breach the Nightborne defenses."

Khadgar nodded. "And what of the security wards, and guard patrols? You indicated earlier that you would be collecting data on those as well."

The gnome stretched from where he stood on a pile of books to point at some neat script in one corner of the parchment. As he did so, the elaborate gold border of his sleeve slipped up his arm just enough to show the very edge of the arcane symbol tattooed on the inside of his wrist--the mark of the Tirisgarde. Knowing the history of the Guardians of Azeroth as well as he did, Khadgar had fully supported the renewal of an independent order of the Tirisgarde, and he was pleased to have their support in return. As Senach began to speak again, obviously adjusting the pitch of his voice to avoid squeaking, Khadgar refocused his attention on the map.

"Here I have made a series of notations regarding the coding style and frequency setting of the main body of arcane wards that surround the city. And here," he pointed at another block of writing, "is a listing of some of the weaker points in those wards, which I hope to correlate with Valtrois' ley force data. I have also brought with me a report on sentry movements." Senach reached into his diminutive satchel and pulled forth another scroll that seemed far too large to have been stored in such a small pouch. This he handed over to Khadgar.

Khadgar unrolled it, and determined that it was an extremely comprehensive list of guard patrols for the areas Senach had indicated were likely points of entry, and several additional locations as well. The three Tirisgarde wizards watched him as he scanned the document.

"It appears you have done a very thorough job with this assignment. My thanks for all the information you have brought, and the excellent manner in which it has been organized. I expect to be meeting with the leadership of the rebel forces in Shal'Aran soon, and you can be sure your presence will be integral to any and all strategy sessions."

Archmage Senach nodded in approval. "I will leave this copy of the map with you, then. We have, of course, stored another copy in a safe location in case it should be needed." He stepped down from the stack of books and offered his hand to Khadgar, who shook it. Then, looking back at his companions, he rotated his arm in a brisk circle and teleported the three out of Khadgar's library.    

For a moment, Khadgar stood in silent contemplation. Then he rolled the map back up, with the smaller scroll tucked inside, and set it aside. He slipped his hand beneath the table and triggered the mechanism of a hidden drawer, which popped open to reveal a slim journal bound in indigo leather. He removed the journal and turned to the last page on which he had previously made notes, then flipped through the previous pages until he found a particular drawing.

"Yes..." he said, under his breath. "I think it will work." Khadgar closed the journal and returned it to its hiding place, securing the drawer mechanically and then binding it closed with a spell. "I hope it will work." He wrote out a quick note on a fresh leaf of paper, placed it squarely in the cleared center of the table, and then set about putting his plan into action.

***

"Kalec!" Kinsale burst into the room like a force of nature, terror in her eyes. He was immediately alarmed by her distress.

"What's happened?" he asked. Rising swiftly from his chair, he dropped his book on the low table beside him. He reached out to take her trembling shoulders in his hands, searching her face for clues.

She gulped. "I can't reach him, I can't find him. Not anywhere." Her forehead crinkled as she fought the panic within her. "Khadgar's gone."

Kalec was struck through as though with a lance of ice. His eyes unfocused for a moment as he reached out through the nether with his own still-powerful senses. As the former dragon Aspect charged with the caretaking of magic in Azeroth, he could still locate and track objects of great power. Khadgar was one of these.

But he could not find the Archmage, the presumptive Guardian, either. His eyes widened, refocusing on Kinsale's. "Can you sense him if he's in Draenor?" he asked, his voice darkened and deadly serious.

"If he was in Draenor or Outland I would feel him. I traveled to both places and was still unable to sense him. I also went to Karazhan, and he is not there." With Karazhan's strange atmosphere and location over a ley line nexus, it had the potential to disguise and divert, but even after thoroughly combing its halls, Kinsale had found no recent traces of Khadgar's presence.

Kalec felt fear and apprehension prickle along his skin. How could Khadgar completely disappear? If it was voluntary, why did he not tell them where he was going? If it was involuntary...he stopped his mind there. Plenty of time to worry about that later.

"Kalec, what if Gul'dan got him? What if he's..." She was already there ahead of him, but couldn't say it either.

"What would you do if Gul'dan has captured him?" Kalec asked her.

"Invade the Nighthold and find him."

"What do we have teams doing right now?"

"...Working out how to invade the Nighthold." she admitted.

"And we will find a way in. If he is there, we will find him. It won't be long." Kalec's hands slipped down to her arms but did not release her. The contact steadied them both. "Is there anything you felt before you noticed he was gone that led you to believe it was against his will? Pain, fear, anything?"

Kinsale shook her head. "No. I've gone over it a hundred times already. There was the sort of low level background hum that is the normal state of things when he is working. And then, nothing. Just...blankness."

"So if he's not in Azeroth, or Draenor, or Outland..." Kalec had an idea. "I can take you to his quarters in the tower and you can wait for him there. I will join you there later, but I have some things I want to look into first."

"I can get there myself," she told him, her hand moving to where the runed mana gem lay hidden beneath her tunic. "I will wait." Her eyes were full of desperation, and he hoped he could find answers where she had failed.

"I will return and meet you there soon, I promise." Kalec embraced her then, and felt a gentle nudging at his spirit. Had circumstances been different, he may have smiled. Kinsale was trying to connect with him as she easily could with Khadgar, but they did not share the same sort of compatibility and were not able to communicate in the same unusual manner. He squeezed her gently before releasing her.

Kinsale's eyes didn't leave Kalec's face as she used the mana gem to transport herself to the sanctuary of Khadgar's chamber. When she was gone, Kalec opened a portal for himself, to investigate his hunch.

He arrived in Shattrath barely a breath later. Even from across the city he could hear the tranquil chimes of the resident na'aru. He strode across the platform where he had landed, and entered the small arched building that faced him.

The spell wards stopped him just inside the door. What he could see in the room was merely an illusion until he passed the wards. With his mind he inspected each one. They were all Khadgar's, and no threads seemed damaged or out of place. Kalec found the one spot, a sort of keyhole, that Khadgar always left for him. It was a failsafe, a backup plan. In the event something happened, Kalec would always have access.

Using the access point, Kalec slipped through into the actual chamber. He looked around him, taking note of every detail. It was Khadgar's old workshop, and there were shelves and shelves of books, jars of reagents, and a desk covered in scrolls and scraps of parchment. A large basket in one corner overflowed with apexis shards.

What caught his eye was the bare floor in the center of the room. It was too clean. He stepped carefully around the perimeter of the area, looking for traces of anything that would tell him what had happened here. Nothing was evident to the naked eye. It was just a clean bit of floor in an otherwise dusty, unused room.

Not fooled for a moment, Kalec projected an arcane field across the bare floor. Immediately the outlines of a runic casting circle became apparent, shimmeringly ephemeral in the dimness of the chamber. He carefully studied each of the runes, and looked for flaws in the circle that could have allowed dangerous forces to disrupt Khadgar's spells. He saw no imperfections that should have exposed his friend to danger, and the runes were of the sort that were normally involved in teleportation and dimensional transference. The placement and orientation of one of the sigils perplexed Kalec. He wasn't sure he'd seen it used in that way before. In its normal orientation it referred to the duration of a spell, but here he couldn't be certain. He needed to carefully consider the significance of such usage.

He looked over the room and the casting circle once more. Nothing else suggested anything to him. With a wave of his hand, the arcane field dissipated, and the runic circle vanished with it. Kalec's forehead creased in frustration as he checked the wards one more time. Then he teleported himself back to Dalaran.

Kalec had directed his teleportation spell to take him directly to Khadgar's study, and he was surprised to find himself deposited outside the door instead of within the chamber. He checked the security wards here, and found a new layer had been added. And this one had no keyhole to allow Kalec access. He searched frantically through the interwoven strands of magic, and it was clear that Khadgar had been the one to put this barrier in place. Yet he had left no point of entry for anyone else, not even his most trusted friend.

The dragon-mage's sapphire-colored brows drew closer together and his eyes blazed with fury. As he scanned the workings of the wards, unable to find a way to defeat it without a significant, days-long effort, he saw the misplaced sigil from the casting circle appear once more. Was Khadgar doing something with time? Was this ward a time-lock of some kind? Kalec grunted, and slammed the heel of his hand against the sturdy wood of the door, angry that the solution to this problem escaped him and that his friend had been so pig-headed as to not let Kalec know where he was going. Or...when?

Kalec closed his eyes and leaned against the door for a moment, trying to clear his head and compose himself. He still had to keep Kinsale from believing the worst. There was no evidence anything bad had happened, but there was none proving it hadn't happened, either. They had to focus on the positive.

He looked at the clock on the other side of the great hall of the Chamber of the Guardian. Khadgar had only been missing about ten hours, according to when Kinsale had first noticed his absence. Surely they could give him a full twenty-four before panicking. Council members had been known to go off on their own for much longer than that, though not usually the leader of the Kirin Tor himself, nor in the midst of an invasion, or while involved in three massive projects of great import...Kalec shook his head. He pulled himself together and began to walk up and out of the Chamber of the Guardian, towards the Violet Citadel, where Kinsale waited for news.

When he reached the small garden next to the great tower, he transformed into his natural form and flew up to the top of the tower. He breathed deeply, filling his dragon-sized lungs, and stretched his wings to their full extension. When he landed on the balcony outside Khadgar's quarters and shifted back into half-elven form, he felt much calmer, and ready to be as reassuring as Kinsale needed him to be.

She looked up immediately when the door opened, though she knew it wasn't her partner. She began to rise from the couch where she sat, but he beckoned her to stay seated, and took the place beside her. The questions were plain on her face.

Kalec tried to summarize what he had learned in the least alarming way possible. "It appears that Khadgar has opened a pathway somewhere, and taken it. I'm not certain, but there may be a time component to his travel, which would explain our inability to detect his presence." This was the best possible explanation for not being able to locate him, even with their special affinities to who and what Khadgar was. The other options ranged from frightening to outright grief-inducing.

Kinsale nodded and looked down at her empty hands.

"I don't know how much he's told you, and I probably shouldn't be telling you, but we've been researching three main subjects: restoring Illidan, locating and traveling to Argus, and breaching the defenses of the Nighthold. It is very likely that Khadgar is off on some expedition related to one of these projects." He took a deep breath. If Khadgar had attempted to find Argus...they really didn't have nearly enough information to do anything like that yet.

Kinsale looked back up into Kalec's face. "What do we do?" Her voice broke.

Kalec shrugged helplessly. "For now we can only wait. It's been less than a day. I don't think anyone else knows he's gone." The significance of a time lock on the study dawned on him at last.

"He secured his study--possibly to make it appear he was busy inside--with the provision that if he doesn't return in a set period of time, it will unlock and let me in. I expect there will be instructions inside in the event that he does not return." Kalec nodded to himself. Yes, that made a great deal of sense. "So, we wait. Either he will return, or the wards will unlock and we will discover where he went. Then we decide where to go from there."

Kinsale got up and went over to the bookcase. She ran her fingertips across the leather bindings of the books that were some of Khadgar's greatest treasures. Kalec followed her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's the silence," she said in a low voice. "It's...deafening. I never realized how much I could feel him with me until I suddenly couldn't." She turned to face Kalec. "What do I do if he doesn't return?"

Kalec was once again reminded of how he'd lost his own great love when she gave herself to restore the Sunwell. She was never far from his mind at the best of times. If Khadgar, too, sacrificed himself, it would likely be for similarly selfless reasons, and Kinsale would be left feeling at least as bereft as Kalec had. Probably even more so, thanks to the mental link Khadgar and Kinsale shared. The sense of despair Kalec had felt at Anveena's loss surged through him in a sympathetic response to Kinsale's fear. He pulled Kinsale to him and held her tightly, attempting to banish the pain. He had no words of wisdom or comfort with which to ease her mind.

Kinsale clung to Kalec as if he were a solid rock in the midst of a tempest. The unusual rhythm of his heartbeat did not come close to replacing the sense of Khadgar being with her that had become her normal state of existence, but it resonated through her, and gave her a fixed point on which to focus. At the very least, it wasn't the silence that engulfed her.

"All we can do now is wait," said Kalec, gently stroking her hair. He felt his anger rising again, that Khadgar should thoughtlessly cause such distress. He quelled it as best he could, for Kinsale's sake. "You should try to get some rest. It's very late already, and if we need to act tomorrow, we will need every resource. I will stay here with you and keep watch."

She slipped out of his arms, nodding sadly. The soldier in her knew he had a point, but she feared that getting any actual rest would be highly unlikely. Resigned to a long night of wakefulness, she went and laid down upon Khadgar's bed, fully dressed atop the covers.

Kalec unfolded the spare blanket that lay on the trunk at the foot of the bed and draped it loosely over her. Then he returned to the couch and sat down, prepared to watch the night change into day, as he had countless times before.

He sat, perfectly still, listening to Kinsale's soft breathing. The moon rose, its light muted by the colored glass of the high tower windows. The pools of light shifted slowly around the room as the night took its measured pace towards dawn. He noticed a familiar fragrance--the sweet flowers that Anveena used to rinse her hair. He turned his head and was struck by the sight of the moon beams falling upon a cascade of long, golden hair. She was here, in his arms, come to comfort him at last.

"Anveena!" he whispered, and she turned towards him. She said not a word, but smiled as sweetly as she ever had. He bent to kiss her, and her lips touched his like the kiss of the sun as it burned away the dew of a spring morning. Her warmth exploded through him. He held her more tightly and kissed her more fiercely. Kalec felt an upwelling of his power within him, and instinctively shaped it and directed it to envelop the woman in his arms, willing her into being, into his reality.

Even in the thrall of the dream, he knew this Anveena was only an illusion, a memory. He longed for some of the abilities the other former Aspects had possessed, so that he could bring this vision back into existence. Yet even using the limited powers he did control, he caused a change. The lips he kissed seemed warmer and more solid. The woman he held so close became more substantial.

Gradually Kalec became aware that he was no longer dreaming, and the kiss faded. His eyes opened and adjusted to the dimness of the room. It was Kinsale that he cradled in his arms, not his lost love. Her face rested mere inches from his, and her arms held him as closely as his held her. He could see the faint reflections of the trails tears had left across her cheeks. Kalec could not help but try to brush them away.

She lifted her eyes to meet his. They were unreadable in the darkness, but he knew without seeing that they were full of fear. He gathered every ounce of comfort he could find within himself and bound it to the flow of arcane energy that sustained him as much as the flow of blood in his veins. He focused it carefully, and gently kissed her, letting the closest thing he had to healing pass through him into her.

The warmth of it spread through her body, so like the Light, yet so unlike. Kinsale felt the fear diminish, and a stillness take its place. It was not peace, but it was a kindness. She knew Kalec felt responsible for her in Khadgar's absence, and accepted the comfort he offered. For a fleeting moment, as their lips touched, she thought she could see a beautiful, golden-haired girl spin around before her, laughing.

Dawn came at last, bringing with it a still, grey winter's day. Neither Kinsale or Kalec had gotten much rest, but as soon as the chamber was light, they were up.

"Now what do we do?" asked Kinsale over the steaming coffee Kalec had conjured and placed in her hands.

"We go to Khadgar's study and check the locks," he replied. Beyond that, he wasn't sure, but he was committed to maintaining a brave face.

Kinsale drank her coffee quickly, ignoring the heat of it in her urgency to proceed. Kalec followed suit, and soon they stood together before the closed door in the depths of the Chamber of the Guardian.

Kalec placed his palm flat on the door. Energy invisibly spiraled out from his fingers, seeking a way through the time-locked wards. They were still secure. He sighed and his hand fell back to his side.

Kinsale's hopeful expression clouded, and she sagged against the door frame. As she touched it, a faint tingle skittered across her skin, evidence of the magic that secured the room.

Then she was abruptly overcome by a wave of light that bloomed within her, and they heard the tumblers of the mechanical door fastenings come undone. Kalec and Kinsale stared at each other, their eyes wide.

"He's here," she whispered, and turned to open the door.

Khadgar was about to open the door himself, already knowing who awaited him on the other side. He wrapped Kinsale in his arms immediately, burying his face in her hair, desperate to refill the void within himself that he had inadvertently created with his little solo expedition.

"I didn't know, I swear I didn't know it would happen," he said, his voice muffled and cracking. "I'm so sorry, so, so sorry."

Kinsale, her face pressed against his chest, sobbed a few times in sheer relief.

Kalec slipped past them into the room, wanting to give them a little privacy but not willing to leave until he found out what had happened. He, too, felt a tremendous sense of relief that Khadgar was back with them, although somewhat altered in appearance compared to what he'd looked like when Kalec had met with him the previous day. He looked rather haggard and gaunt, his robes were filthy with black dust and torn in places, and he'd somehow acquired what looked like a fortnight's worth of beard growth. Moving towards Khadgar's work table, Kalec saw the single leaf of paper that lay in the center, surrounded by the scrolls of reports and maps that were constantly being delivered.

"You don't need to read it, I'll tell you where I went and what I did there." Kalec looked up to see Khadgar watching him. He and Kinsale now stood side-by-side, arms draped around each other. "I went to the Black Temple. To watch Illidan."

"Back in time? In the same world in which you already existed? Khadgar, you know the dangers of that. Even Nozdormu is wary of such things." Kalec's face turned ashen as he considered just how badly Khadgar's little adventure could have gone. He knew his friend was just daredevil enough to throw caution to the wind when circumstances required action, but this just seemed foolhardy. With what they faced here, now, it was beyond reckless.

"Yes, well." Khadgar drew a mighty breath, preparing to explain. "I knew that during the last weeks of Illidan's life, I was as far away as I could have been from him. I was in Netherstorm while he sequestered himself in Shadowmoon Valley. Honestly, I had not anticipated how physically draining it is to be in two places at once in a single timeline."

He continued, "I needed to know exactly why he had isolated himself. The rumors that it was because he was building his army seemed to be a thin explanation, because surely he would only need to train lieutenants, and then they could oversee further training. So I worked out a way to teleport through time. Really quite similar to summoning up a vision of a particular time in order to view a specific event...but I digress.

I managed to arrive when I'd hoped to, and was able to cloak myself with a strong enough field of invisibility that no one saw me. I think that Illidan himself may have been able to sense me once or twice, but he could not find me, and gave up looking. It was obvious he was working to a deadline and pushing himself very hard. There was indeed an army in the offing, far greater than what we had realized then, and far more massive than what we had found after he was killed. You're seeing it here, now, in all our demon hunter allies.

You see, what he was really creating, the focus of the majority of his energy, was a way to get this army of his to the heart of the Legion, to destroy it at its source. I watched him. I saw him building his portal. We desperately need his expertise. Our plan to bring his body and soul back together is absolutely crucial to saving Azeroth, to saving the universe itself, from Sargeras and his minions. We can't do it without him." Khadgar looked down at Kinsale, the weariness in his face offset by the comfort of her presence. When he returned his gaze to his friend, Kalec could read the determination and resolve there, too.

Kalec nodded, accepting Khadgar's tale. "I understand why you felt the need to do this, but you should not have done it without telling anyone about it. Especially your own mate."

"I did not realize it would sever our connection until it was too late. I should have seen that it could not possibly remain open, even if I had been gone from this time for the same duration as I was in that time, the paradoxes and incongruities were too much to sustain any kind of link. But it didn't occur to me, and I was trusting that it would be a useful method of communication." Khadgar sighed. "I was wrong. And the absence of it was such a blow to me that I nearly abandoned my quest entirely and returned immediately, before I'd even truly started. I stayed for a full two weeks, though, and attempted to arrive back here almost as soon as I left. I can tell that I didn't get that quite right, either."

"Nearly a day late." Kinsale spoke at last. "I searched, and then Kalec searched, and then we waited. We told no one else."

"Well, that's good. No need to alarm anyone unnecessarily." He ran his hand over his jaw, with its recent growth of scruffy beard. "Speaking of being alarming, I suppose I ought to clean up before anyone else sees the state I'm in."

"It looks like you could use a rest, as well. I will cover for you if anyone sends for you." Kalec gestured for them to go. Khadgar smiled gratefully at his friend, and mustered up the energy needed to teleport himself and Kinsale the short distance to her quarters.

***

Somehow, even though the tumult of the daily struggle to combat the Legion had not lessened in intensity, Kinsale felt stable. They had found Vanthir, and he was safe. Khadgar had disappeared but he had returned, and with some much-needed knowledge. Everything had been turned upside-down, but in the midst of it all, her strength was making itself felt once again. 

She had left Khadgar to his endless organizational meetings and strategic planning sessions, and taken a flight down to Shal'Aran. The Dusk Lily rebellion was approaching full flower, with masses of withered troops trained and ready to launch an assault upon the city. Kinsale and her Silver Hand troops would be at their side, bringing the Light to bear on the darkness that had taken hold of Suramar.

When her gryphon touched down at last, she was pleased to see Vanthir out in the sunlight. 

"Vanthir! You look like you're feeling much better since I saw you last." If he had been a human comrade she might have embraced him, but she knew that elves had different traditions, so she refrained.

He smiled as he saw her. "Yes, thank you. A bit of arcandor fruit and a few nights' rest and I am much improved." He turned to walk with her through the vine-shrouded entrance to the Shal'Aran cave complex. "Many of your paladins are here already," Vanthir told her. "And there are others outside...Thalyssra will want to speak with you about them."

She looked at him, trying to match the expression on his face to his tone of voice. He seemed concerned, but Kinsale wasn't sure. Anyway, if Thalyssra had something to say, she would be able to judge soon enough.

They walked straight over to where Thalyssra stood near an intricately wrought table, reading over some notes. She looked up as she heard them approach.

"Ah, Kinsale. I am glad you are here. This Khadgar of yours, he has called a meeting. You will accompany me?"

Kinsale's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He'd given her no indication that he would be here so soon. "Of course," she replied. "I am at your disposal." And they walked back outside, towards the gates of the city.

There was a much larger gathering than she had anticipated. Besides herself, the Nightfallen leaders of the Dusk Lily rebellion, and Khadgar, there were a few score Kirin Tor defenders, and leaders of several of the Azeroth class orders, including the Tirisgarde, the Earthen Ring, and the Ebon Blade. Even the Illidari had sent a representative. Most impressive, however, was the host of elves of all types. The Quel'dorei, the Sin'dorei, and the Kal'dorei had all brought their own armies. The fields before the gates of Suramar were a shifting sea of elven bodies garbed in the colors that signified their allegiances, punctuated here and there by the flash of sunlight on shining blades and armor.

Khadgar winked at her as the elven leaders introduced themselves. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, hinting that he may have been intentionally mischievous in not telling her of his intended journey to Suramar. But then the discussion became necessarily serious. They were meeting to initiate the invasion of Suramar. All the intelligence that had been gathered by the network of agents working for the various class orders had been pooled together by the Kirin Tor, and a comprehensive assault plan had been drawn up. Khadgar presented this to the assembled leaders, and asked Thalyssra directly for her input.

Even Kinsale could see the reaction among the leaders of the other elven factions, who appeared to distrust Thalyssra even as they assembled to join forces with her. But in Kinsale's mind, Khadgar's appeal to the Nightborne was not just a diplomatic maneuver. No invasion would be successful without the insight and the backing of those who knew and loved the city and its people. 

"You present a well-thought framework for invasion, Archmage. My team and I would be able to offer the detail you need to make it happen. If the other elven leaders would join me in Shal'Aran, perhaps we can decide how best to organize and distribute each of our forces." Whatever the other leaders thought of her, Thalyssra's voice carried just the right measure of authority, and there were nods in the assembled group.

"That sounds like an excellent idea. My thanks to you, Thalyssra, for joining with us to drive back the Legion and protect Azeroth from destruction." Things were proceeding just as Khadgar had hoped. Suramar was the province of the ancient elven kingdoms, and while the Kirin Tor would gladly lead when necessary to combat the Burning Legion, it was really more appropriate that those who were most personally tied to the region were the ones who oversaw its defense. Khadgar was happy to provide resources as necessary, it just happened that Dalaran's strength lay in information more than action.

Thalyssra moved off towards Shal'Aran, with Tyrande, Vereesa, and Liadrin close beside her. The leaders of the class orders broke into small groups to exchange news or discuss their own plans for supporting the invasion. Kinsale and Khadgar were left to themselves for a moment in the sea of people. 

"You didn't tell me you'd be coming down." 

"No, I didn't plan on this meeting even taking place for another few days. But Tyrande arrived in Dalaran just after you left, and insisted it happen immediately." Khadgar gave a barely perceptible shrug. "I wasn't going to complain about seeing you." The corner of his lip curled up again.

Kinsale smiled. She wasn't going to complain, either. "You know, since you're here, there's some people you should meet. I'm sure they have some questions for you." She led him over to where Oculeth, Silgryn, and Vanthir were making acquaintances of some of the new arrivals.

It wasn't long before Oculeth was quizzing Khadgar on the finer points of teleporting an entire city, and Khadgar was happy to oblige with detailed answers.  Silgryn was patiently attentive to the discussion for some minutes, though Kinsale couldn't tell if he was really interested in the topic or not. She wasn't particularly interested herself, though she loved watching Khadgar get wrapped up in explaining the technical details of things. Oculeth, too, was actually rather interesting to listen to, with his dry wit and raspy voice.

She turned to see where Vanthir had slipped off to and saw him standing a short distance away, talking animatedly with some Suramar refugees. A few yards past him, the decaying stone ruins of Meredil sprang up out of the wood that ringed the meadow where the armies were congregated. Kinsale could see a stone bench just at the edge of the clearing, still mostly intact, and decided she would very much like to sit down for a while.

Silgryn fell in beside her as she walked the short distance to the bench, and sat next to her there. "He is very charismatic, your archmage. And very intelligent. I can see what captured your attention." The ghost of a smile played across his lips, as though he remembered someone who had captured him in a similar manner. "And I can also see he carries great power within him. I understand how you picked up some of it without meaning to."

Kinsale was a little surprised that Silgryn should be interested in discussing her personal life, but he was right. "You think so? I mean, you're right, those things and his innate goodness are what attracted me. And then when the link grew between us...well... It's like nothing I've ever known."

"He cares for you, your mate?" Silgryn asked, his eyes upon Khadgar and Oculeth, still very much engrossed in their conversation.

"Very much, I would say. And I care very much for him."

He truly smiled now. "It is heartening to see. The world is not such a dark place after all."

"You're not the first person to say that," said Kinsale. 

Silgryn turned to her, "It is a true thing. I am sure, indeed I hope, that many who do not remark upon your love still observe and are warmed by it."

Kinsale opened her mouth to reply but just then a small refugee child skipped up alongside their seat and stopped, mouth and eyes wide at the sight of the triple elven armies and various other soldiers making preparations for battle.

"Child, who do you seek?" asked Silgryn, his voice gentle.

"Oh! Master Silgryn! I am sent by the First Arcanist herself with a message!" The child fell silent. Kinsale and Silgryn waited for her to continue but she did not.

"And what is that message, child?" Silgryn prompted.

"Oh! She says to tell the outlander leaders that they may go or stay as they please. She will send for them when she is done talking to the elf ladies." The child turned back to the scene before them, entranced. "Master Silgryn?" she asked.

"Yes, child?"

"Will I be a great warrior like one of these some day?"

Silgryn sighed softly. "You may indeed, my pet. But I hope it will not be necessary." He deliberately brightened the tone of his voice. "Now, run along back to Shal'Aran, in case you are needed again. We will share your message."

The child nodded, and turned to go. She cast one last look over her shoulder before she disappeared into the trees and piles of ruined stone buildings.

Kinsale and Silgryn separated, each of them moving from group to group, sharing the message that Thalyssra had sent, until all the leaders present had been notified. Most of them made their farewells to their friends and prepared to return to their order hall or to Dalaran to await the summons for battle. A few appeared to make arrangements to stay with the forces encamped outside the gates of Suramar while they waited. Kinsale made sure to speak with Lady Liadrin's lieutenant, assuring her that the forces of the Silver Hand were Liadrin's to command. Paladins stood by paladins in times of need.

Kinsale made her way back to Khadgar, in the midst of giving some instructions to the commander of the Kirin Tor guard, deployed to Suramar as peacekeepers between the Horde and Alliance armies. He finished just as she reached his side, and turned to her.

"Now that this is out of my hands, I could use a drink," he said to her. "I have one visit to make, and then I am at last free for an evening. Shall we?"

She grinned. Drinking on the eve of an invasion? It was a good thing she knew which healing prayers were most effective for hangovers. "I've noticed my throat is awfully dry from all this chatting. A drink sounds excellent."

With one hand he wove the spell that opened a portal to Stormwind. With the other, he clasped hers and pulled her through the portal with him. 

***

The afternoon light was already beginning to fade as Kinsale wandered along the canals, waiting for Khadgar. He had gone to the King, to brief him on the progress of the counteroffensive against the Legion. It was taking longer than Khadgar had said it would, but she wasn't entirely surprised. Everything she knew of the young King suggested he would wish to have a thorough understanding of circumstances, and she judged rightly that Khadgar would be willing to discuss any and all aspects of the situation. He'd seen Stormwind fall once. She knew he would do whatever he could to prevent it happening again.

It seemed like there were fewer shops open along the canals than she remembered. The traffic in the street seemed muted. Down a quiet byway, she spotted a shop she was interested in visiting. A warm light spilled out into the grey dusk as she pulled open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside.

She was immediately greeted by the proprietress of the Gallina Winery. "Good evening! How can I help you today, Highlord?" Julia Gallina had sold many a skin of Dwarven stout to Kinsale over the years, and had been pleased to hear of her career advancement.

"Julia, how are you?" Kinsale smiled. "It's been a few years since I stopped by, but let me tell you, those casks you sent to Draenor were priceless. Talk about morale boosters!"

Julia laughed. "I'm glad. I knew it had to be rough out there, so far from home. The troops have always welcomed a little something to warm the spirit. Was there something you needed for your army in the Broken Isles? I'm sure they could use a fair bit of a morale boost, too."

"Actually, I came in for myself. But you're absolutely right. I'll have four kegs of Dwarven stout, four of mead, and a small cask of bourbon sent out to the quartermaster at Greyfang Enclave. He can divide it up among the major encampments." Kinsale smiled at the thought of the soldiers getting a chance to relax amidst the strenuous labor and tense waiting of war.

"Excellent!" The shopkeeper made some notes on a pad she kept on the counter. "And for yourself?"

"I'd like some port if you've got some. Dalaran has a very nice stock of wine but somehow their selection of port seems to be lacking, and I know someone who is rather fond of it."

"We have quite a fair tawny port, if that would suit? I can have a cask of it set aside." Julia made some more notes on her pad.

"Yes, that would be very nice." Kinsale looked at the chalkboard that hung on the wall behind the counter, where all the shop's offerings were listed. One other item caught her eye. "Lordaeron lambic? I haven't had any of that in years!"

Julia smiled. "One of our cider suppliers moved up north to help reclaim the farms around Andorhal. After he ascertained that the existing peach trees were not contaminated by the plague, he decided to try making an old style lambic. It's really quite good. Would you like to try a sample?"

"Oh, yes, please!" Kinsale accepted the cup from Julia, and before it even reached her mouth she knew it was delicious. The aroma alone transported her. She took a sip and let the flavor wash over her.

"What do you think?" This question was a pure formality. It was pretty obvious to Julia that her customer was sold.

Kinsale opened her eyes, not remembering closing them. "I love it. Can you have a keg of that shipped up to my quarters in Dalaran along with the port? Make sure it's labeled for me. I want my soldiers to be happy, but not with my lambic." She grinned.

"Consider it done." Julia worked some figures on her notepad and gave Kinsale the total price for her goods, and Kinsale drew out her coin pouch to pay for them. She still couldn't believe her luck. Lordaeron lambic! The plague had devastated so many lives and so much land, but here was a fragment of that history, come back to life.

Julia Gallina accepted the coins and thanked Kinsale for her patronage. As she turned to leave the shop, Kinsale heard the shopkeeper call to the stock boy to start pulling the merchandise to be shipped straight away. Ah, it would be a lovely treat, for the soldiers and for herself and Khadgar.

Back in the street, Kinsale started strolling back in the direction of Stormwind Keep. Surely Khadgar would be done soon. She had just reached the bridge between Old Town and the Dwarven District when he materialized in front of her. As the lamplight shone gold on his hair, she was taken once again with surprise at having missed seeing how handsome he was the whole time they were in Draenor.

"All done," he said, smiling down at her. "You managed to entertain yourself, I hope?"

She nodded and smiled back at him. "Oh yes. I made a few purchases, had a nice stroll along the canal, and visited the new monument in the Park District."

"You must be terribly thirsty then. And cold. Isn't it rather chilly out?" Khadgar looked up at the darkening sky as if it would provide answers.

Kinsale slipped her arm through his and turned him towards the bridge that led to the Dwarven District. "I know the perfect place to warm up," she said, and they headed for The Golden Keg tavern.

***

By the time Kalec showed up, Khadgar had lost count of how many pints he'd finished. He was now keeping track by how many trips to the outhouse he had to make. Kinsale was still nursing her third pint, and carefully maintaining a pleasant warm fuzziness. She was pretty sure she'd be responsible for looking after her partner in his state of intoxication.

"Kalec, my fine friend! About time you showed up!" Khadgar stood, still fairly steadily, and clapped his friend on the back. "Sit! Have a glass. The dwarves here know how to pull an excellent pint." He collapsed back into his chair, and Kalec gracefully slid into the one next to him.

"I bring news," Kalec said, as quietly as he could and still be audible. The pub was alive with the folk of the district, though not as rowdy as Kinsale had seen it in the past. They all leaned in to hear and be heard without having to speak over the crowd. "They have agreed on a plan, and are ready to put it into action."

"So soon?" Kinsale was surprised. She had expected it would take at least a full day of negotiation and compromise before the elves had even begun to discuss an invasion plan.

"Yes, somehow they were able to come to terms fairly rapidly. Perhaps they all see that haste is in their best interest." Kalec made the effort to keep the words neutral and just vague enough that any eavesdroppers would get no definite information about anything.

Even drunk, there was a part of Khadgar's brain that knew when to be careful, and it took over now. "Are we needed?" he asked, as softly as he could and still be heard. He could have woven a spell that made their words unintelligible to surrounding bar patrons, but it would have attracted even more attention than merely conversing in a low voice.

"Not yet. I believe Kinsale has given orders regarding the Silver Hand already, and the Kirin Tor knows what their role is." Kalec looked the question at Kinsale, who nodded, affirming what he thought to be true.

Khadgar leaned back in his chair. "Well that's excellent. Most excellent." He flagged down the serving maid. Lifting his voice to be heard above the noise of the room, he said, "Another pitcher please, miss! And a glass for my friend, who is very dry."

***

The serving maid had brought two more pitchers before Kinsale and Kalec decided it was time to go. Khadgar was proving to have a hollow leg, and was about to accept the challenge of a nearby dwarf to a drinking contest. Kinsale settled up with the barmaid, and between them, she and Kalec managed to haul Khadgar away from the jovial dwarf before anything dangerous occurred. She'd already noticed several puffs of smoke around the room as small critters turned mysteriously into other small critters.

They stepped out into the frosty winter night, Khadgar with one arm over Kalec's shoulders and one over Kinsale's. He wasn't as unsteady as Kinsale expected, but he was definitely over the limit. Kalec looked over at Kinsale.

"Do you want to stay here or go back to Dalaran? I can make you a portal."

She thought for a moment. "Probably best to go back to Dalaran. Can we walk a bit first though? I'd like to get a little of this out of his system before we're surrounded by Kirin Tor."

"Get what out of whose system?" asked Khadgar.

"Nothing!" Kinsale replied. "We're just going to go for a nice walk before we go to bed. Get some fresh air."

"Okay!" he said, and the slightly unbalanced threesome moved away from the tavern.

By the time they made it to the Cathedral District, Kinsale was able to steady Khadgar without Kalec's help, but he hovered anyway. As they passed the orphanage, a tiny streak of white flew around the corner and past their feet, followed immediately by a small boy. Kalec caught him before he crashed into them.

"Whoa there. What's going on? Isn't it a bit late for you to be out on a cold winter's night?" Kalec was not at all intoxicated, even after the four pints he'd downed to keep his friends company. He knelt by the boy. The lantern light was enough to see he was upset.

"It's my kitten, sir," the boy said. "I mean, the one I can't keep." He pointed to where a white ball of fluff was barely visible beneath an evergreen bush. "There were two, and matron says I can keep the one to scare the rats, but I have to give the other away. I think he knows and now he won't let me catch him." The child looked over at the kitten. His lip trembled slightly.

Kinsale's heart softened. She was not used to children, but she understood this one's feelings for his pet. It had been a long time since she'd been on a farm herself but not so long she'd forgotten the unquestioning affection that a fuzzy friend could give. And she well and truly knew what it was like to be orphaned.

"What if we took him with us?" she asked, acting on a whim. "You've clearly looked after him well, if his speed is any measure. I would be more than happy to compensate you for the time and energy you've given to his care."

Khadgar, not completely out of his wits, looked at his mate tenderly. Always a paladin, she was, even at her most gentle. Looking after the needy and the lost. He squeezed her shoulders with the arm that had until now been just casually draped there. She smiled, still watching the boy.

The boy looked at Kalec and then at Kinsale and Khadgar. Standing tall like a little gentleman, he said sternly, "I would need to be sure he would be well looked after. I can't trust him to just anyone."

Kalec stifled a laugh. "I believe the Archmage and the Highlord between them could ensure he was well looked after. Even if they were forced to be away from him for a day or two." He rose to his feet, and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

The child looked doubtfully at Kalec. He could tell Kalec wasn't drunk. If he said these people were important, surely he could be believed?

Kinsale looked to where the kitten still crouched in the shadows. She bent slightly towards it and made some gentle clicking sounds, and held out her hand. She'd had fish and chips at the tavern, and hopefully her fingers still smelled of it. A little pink nose emerged from the branches. Kinsale calmed herself and let the kitten sense her peacefulness. The kitten edged closer, smelling the fish. Finally Kinsale felt the cold, moist nose touch her fingertips and the rough little tongue trying to find the food.

Kalec stepped over to make sure Khadgar didn't lose his balance as Kinsale bent to stroke and then pick up the furry critter. The boy's face had brightened as he saw how the kitten accepted the attention, and how good the lady was at handling him.

"What do you think, young sir?" she asked him. "Do we have a deal? I think he likes me."

"Yes ma'am. I would be glad to see him go with someone who treats him nice."

Kinsale pulled out a coin worth ten silver pieces and handed it to the boy. "For your care," she told him. "And I am Kinsale. What is your name?"

"I'm Timmy," the boy said. "Pleased to meet you ma'am." He stuck his hand out as the matron had taught him to do when introducing himself. Kinsale shook it.

"Pleased to meet you too, Timmy. I promise to look after your kitten. And thank you." She smiled as the kitten began to purr against her chest. "Now, you'd better get back inside before the matron misses you."

As the boy ran off, she turned to Kalec. "And we should probably get back to Dalaran now, before anyone falls asleep on their feet."

"Who's falling asleep?" asked Khadgar, yawning.

***

Kalec teleported them to the large central hall of the Greyfang Enclave at Kinsale's request, and then accompanied them up the stairs to her quarters. He thought for a moment, and conjured a bowl of milk and a small box filled with sand for the kitten while Kinsale deposited Khadgar on the bed.

"You will want to replace these tomorrow," he told her as she came back into the room. "They will only last a day or so. But they will keep you until you can get supplies."

"Thank you, Kalec," she said. The kitten was already scratching in the sand box. She was still dizzy from the beer, but even so she couldn't believe she had adopted the little creature. It had been so long since she'd had a pet. She looked back up at her dragon friend. "Can you help me get Khadgar undressed? He's fairly unmanageable right now."

Kalec laughed. "Yes, of course." He followed her to the bedroom.

As they helped him out of his layers of cloaks and robes and belts, Khadgar began rambling on about whatever was on his mind. "And I bet I'm just another one of your lost children and animals," he said.

"What's that?" asked Kinsale.

"You're a paladin, you look out for helpless creatures. Am I one of your helpless creatures? Lost for decades and now you found me..."

"Not at all. I don't think you're remotely helpless, love." She exchanged glances with Kalec, who was smirking.

"But you've had others. You had Bolvar," he said, muffled by the jerkin being pulled off over his head. His logic seemed to skip a beat somewhere.

Kinsale smoothed his hair down. "I wouldn't say I 'had' Bolvar," she answered. "More like...worshipped him. He never looked at me the way you do."

"But I've never had anyone...I mean, not until a few years ago...so old and worn out even when I wasn't..."

"You could have," interjected Kalec. "You just weren't looking for it."

"Whaaa? Nooo." Khadgar shook his head in exaggerated disbelief.

Kinsale laughed. "Once you got that haircut and your new robes, I'd be surprised if you didn't have all kinds of offers. Women throwing themselves at you. Men propositioning you."

Kalec grinned. "They were."

"No they weren't!" Khadgar struggled to get his arms into his night shirt.

"You just didn't notice. You didn't expect it so you didn't see it." Kalec lifted his eyebrow at Kinsale. The corner of her mouth lifted in a secret grin. She pulled back the covers and they pushed Khadgar under them.

"There was no such thing!" Khadgar declared.

"Remember that pretty night elf in Draenor? Always making small talk with you in the shipyard?" Kalec handed Kinsale the clothing he'd gathered up. She began to fold them as she listened.

"Woodsorrel? Noooo... she was just being friendly. She liked to fish."

"She was interested," Kalec said. Kinsale felt a sudden hollowness in the pit of her stomach. Jealousy? After all they'd built between them? She dismissed it as a primitive reaction, but part of her knew that she did not own Khadgar and he would not have trouble finding another mate if she was not around. Probably not with the telepathic link, but still...

The change in her demeanor did not go unnoticed by Kalec. "We'd better stop, I think we're making Kinsale unhappy. A little jealous perhaps." He looked apologetic for his teasing.

Khadgar was in no state to be aware of such subtleties. "It's okay, she has that elf to talk to."

Kinsale and Kalec both turned to look at him where he lay, his eyes already closed. "What elf?" asked Kinsale.

One blue eye opened for just a moment. "That one...today. Not Vanthir, the other one. The long ponytail?"

"Silgryn? Are you jealous of Silgryn?"

"He likes you. I could tell." Khadgar sighed heavily.

Well, it would explain the strange conversation they'd had earlier, the questions he'd asked her about Khadgar. But it made no difference. She had no desire to be more than friends and comrades-at-arms with Silgryn. She felt Kalec touch her shoulder, and he inclined his head to let her know he was leaving. She smiled her thanks for his help.

She sat on the edge of the bed and took Khadgar's hands in hers. "You have nothing to worry about, love. I choose you. Now, get some sleep and I will join you presently." In response she got a faint smile and very soon afterwards a hint of a snore. She turned back to see that the white kitten had curled up on top of the pile of Khadgar's folded clothes. Kinsale smiled, and began to get ready for bed herself.

***

Morning came too soon, with fog muffling the streets of Dalaran. Kinsale felt muffled too, but began to improve after a hot bath and a solid breakfast. Khadgar was amazingly lively, but still asked Kinsale sheepishly if she could make his headache go away. A swift prayer and a touch of light to his forehead and he was as good as new.

Before he sat down to breakfast, Khadgar had sent an arcane servant to fetch messages for him. It returned as they were finishing, and he looked through the slips of paper as they sat by the fire with their coffee.

Kinsale watched as the kitten explored the room, pounced on unseen foes, and climbed shakily up the back of Khadgar's comfortable fireside chair with its tiny needle-claws sticking like burrs to the fabric. It reached the top and sat proudly above Khadgar's head.

"Hmmmm," Khadgar said as he finished going through the messages. "Nothing too interesting, but we should get down to Suramar first thing. The invasion started just before dawn." He looked at the clock. "It should just be getting interesting now." He stood up, startling the kitten, who hurtled across the room and hid under the desk.

Kinsale suppressed a grin, and got up to pull on her armor and collect her sword. She turned back to Khadgar, and he began to channel a portal to the ruins of Meredil. In the blink of an eye they were there on the ground, and what had been fog in Dalaran became mere cloud cover.

A squire who was looking after some horses nearby was startled to see them materialize before him. He struggled to regain his composure as he recognized who they were. Khadgar politely asked him for the use of two of his horses, and he complied readily. He watched them as they rode away, mouth still hanging open.

They rode up through where the armies had been camped just the day before, and all that remained were a few tents, the remains of campfires, and a couple of sentries who waved them on through. At the main gate to the city, they stopped and assessed the situation.

"Looks like we've made headway," Khadgar said. There were bodies of Suramar city guards and their felsworn counterparts lying here and there along the right of way. The corpse of a large, four-legged construct lay across their path. Its top half was man-shaped and its bottom half resembled a cat, but its various body parts seemed to be held together with arcane energy rather than ligaments and tendons. Whatever it was, it would be doing no further damage.

They walked their horses carefully around it and moved into the city. To one side of the gate stood a massive tree elemental, an ally to the night elves. It creaked as they rode past. Off amongst the elaborate landscaping of the park-like entry to the city, they could see scattered skirmishes of two and three combatants, the remnants of the main push. Kinsale and Khadgar continued to ride towards the center of the city, until they reached the first of the grand staircases. There, they tied their horses to a lamp post and continued on foot.

At the bottom of the second grand staircase, where the view of the city had opened before them, they met the first group of the Kirin Tor peacekeepers standing watch.

"Archmage!" one greeted him, bowing slightly. "The armies have moved toward the harbor."

"Thank you, Arneth." Khadgar patted the peacekeeper on the arm. He was noticeably moved that the Archmage himself should remember his name. He inclined his upper body once more as Khadgar moved away.

Kinsale's eyes were drawn to the dome in the center of the city that sheltered the Nightborne fleet. Today the air was cold and damp, the skies grey, but she was feeling the hot sun, the weight of chains on her arms, the burning of the shackles round her wrists. Khadgar felt the fire rise in her and turned to see her begin to burn with the Light.

"Not yet, my dear," he whispered. He turned his eyes to follow her gaze. "We need to meet the enemy before we can fight it." And he could sense it there before him. As clearly as if there were no walls, no obstructions of any kind, he could feel Gul'dan's presence. Across the harbor, secreted within the Nighthold, Gul'dan waited. If they could eliminate Gul'dan, Kil'jaeden's own key to unlocking the power of Azeroth, they stood a chance of driving back the Legion. It was only a matter of time now.

***


End file.
